Arx Domus Nigrae
by MaryRoyale
Summary: There are legends among the pureblood families about Keepers-special witches who have the power to restore a fallen House. If any House needed a Keeper, it's the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Hermione/Multi (Cygnus, Orion, Sirius AND Regulus). Polyandry.
1. The Grove-born Witch

_A/N: Right. So here's the deal: I've been writing for the QLFC as Beater #2 for the Falmouth Falcons. I have had all kinds of crazy plot bunnies, but very little time to work on any of them. This is a __**test sample**__. MistraRose PMed with the idea of Keepers. She wanted a story with Hermione as a Keeper for the House of Black. We ping-ponged ideas back and forth, and I think I've definitely put my own stamp on the concept, but the original idea was MistraRose's. I'm leaving this up as an example for her to look over. If this is what she wants, then we move forward. If she thinks I've lost my damn mind… well… this will go bye-bye. _

_Just so we're all clear—this story would be Cygnus, Orion, Sirius and Regulus AND Hermione. And YES this is one of those "let's pull out some dead wizards, brush them off, and have them shack up with our female lead character (who happens to be Hermione)". _

_I also have several other stories that my fellow Falcons have been browbeating me to write. My only problem is that my time is somewhat limited. So if you don't mind being tortured by slow updates I'll just go ahead and post everything. :D_

_/\/\/\/\_

"_And the Keeper shall always be a Grove-Born Witch, and all shall remark on Her Beauty, Her Intelligence and Her Power. And the Keeper of a House shall be the Redeemer of Its Honour, and the Salvation of that House. The Keeper is the greatest treasure of any House, and every courtesy will be afforded Her."_

_Grimmauld Place June 28, 1979_

Merlin take it, why did Sirius have to be right about everything? Regulus paced anxiously in his room. He had listened to his mother and to his cousin Bellatrix. He had done everything that he thought he was supposed to do. He had been convinced that everything was for the glory of his House, but he had been so wrong. He glanced at Kreacher who was moaning fitfully in the little nest that Regulus had made next to his own bed.

"Bloody hell," Regulus whispered and closed his eyes tightly. He would not cry. He wouldn't!

A single tear traced its way down Regulus' cheek, and he took a deep, shuddering breath to keep the rest of them at bay. If only the House of Black had a Keeper. She would help him, and together they would figure out how to salvage his House's honour. A choked noise escaped his throat that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. As far as he knew, and it was difficult to tell because each House kept the legends of its Keepers close to their chest, the last Keeper had lived over four hundred years before and she had belonged to House Longbottom. He wasn't sure if the House of Black had ever needed a Keeper before, but they sure as hell needed one now.

"Please," he whispered to the surrounding air. "House Black _needs_ you my Lady."

For an hour or more he stood there and watched Kreacher. Despite his brief lapse in control, Regulus was a practical wizard. He knew that a Keeper wasn't going to sweep down out of thin air to rescue him and his House. No, he was going to have to do the best he could to salvage his family honour by himself. He nodded to himself and then moved closer to the little nest.

"Kreacher?"

_Grimmauld Place June 30, 1979_

The study had become Orion's favorite place to hide from Walburga. He had never wanted to marry her, but the Patriarch had commanded and Orion had no choice. His mother had suggested that in the fullness of time they would come to an understanding. _Mother was right, we have come to an understanding. We understand that we loathe one another._ He had raged at her when he found out that his idiot wife had tried to disown Sirius. They only had two sons, and Cygnus hadn't managed to produce any. Was the woman completely mad? The short answer appeared to be yes.

When had Walburga become so unstable? She had always been short-tempered and arrogant. She had insisted that the only person that she could possibly marry would be another Black. She had sworn that her glorious, sainted blood couldn't be sullied by other, lesser families. Truly, that should have been the first clue, but the Patriarch had refused to see it.

Now Orion had but one son; one hope for the future. What sort of idiot put their entire House at risk like that? He sipped at his Firewhiskey and glared at the tapestry on the wall. His eyes strayed toward the blackened, burn spot where his eldest son had been. Orion smirked to himself. Only he could see the faint, teasing edge of the glamour that he had cast on the tapestry. He had repaired the tapestry, secretly reinstating his son. Sirius had no idea, of course, but Orion was hoping that after this war he would have a chance to speak to his son, to beg him to return.

His eyes shifted and a slight smile ghosted over his lips as he looked to Regulus. The boy was doing everything he could to live up to the family's expectations. Orion was ridiculously proud of him, but at the same time he worried. What if the pressures of the House warped his only official son, corrupting him and turning him into another Walburga or another Bellatrix? As Orion watched, Regulus' picture changed. Horror swept through him as he watched Regulus' death date stitch itself into the tapestry.

"NO!" The shout was ripped from his throat as he fell to his knees in front of the tapestry. "Dear Merlin, no," he whispered and touched the tapestry with shaking fingers.

The House of Black was teetering on the brink. The only official heir had just died, and he couldn't bring Sirius back at the moment. The Patriarch and Walburga wouldn't allow it. The destruction of his family was imminent.

Walburga ran into the study and stared at the tapestry in shock. "NO!" She screamed. "No, not my son! Not Regulus!"

The weeping and wailing went on for hours, and Orion managed to tune her out. When the Patriarch arrived to offer his condolences Orion tried to speak to him. Surely, he could see the need for Sirius' return to the family. They had no heir!

"Absolutely not Orion," Arcturus drawled coldly. "The boy ran away from his responsibilities and duties."

"Then our House had no heir," Orion reminded him in desperation.

Arcturus shrugged. "You and Walburga are young enough. You can try again."

Revulsion crawled over Orion's skin. His heart pounded erratically in his chest. He had not willingly slept with his wife since Regulus was born. His duty had been fulfilled. The thought of bedding her made him ill. He moved quickly through the house and locked himself in his youngest son's room.

"Regulus." It was almost a sigh. He touched his son's photo with his fingertips and ignored the numerous clippings regarding the Dark Lord.

If only the House of Black had a Keeper. Orion could not bed his wife again. He couldn't. His left arm tingled and ached, but he ignored it. Regulus' death was the nail in the coffin for his House. The family would fail without an heir, and there was no way that he could stomach providing one, especially not with his House in its current state. At the moment his House was in willful denial of its precarious status. The Ancient and Noble House of Black was teetering on the edge of utter destruction.

"Please," he whispered. He knew that there was no way for his plea to be answered and the pain in his chest grew exponentially. He fell to his knees again and slumped across the floor of his son's room. "Please."

/\/\/\/\

_September 19, 1979_

The idea of a relaxing day trip had seemed like a good idea last week, but now Miranda Granger wasn't so sure. She was heavily pregnant, the baby was actually overdue by a week, and Miranda's lower back had been aching for a couple hours now. She shifted in the passenger seat and her husband Eric glanced over at her with concern in his mild brown eyes.

"Miranda?" He touched her knee gently.

A whimper escaped her. She needed to get _out_ of this stupid car. "Stop the car," she commanded.

Eric blinked at her. "Er, hang on. At the next possible spot I'll pull over."

Fidgeting restlessly Miranda kept an eye on the road. "There! Pull over there!"

As soon as the car stopped, Miranda was out of the car and pacing restlessly. Eric got out of the car slowly and watched his wife with a wary eye. He had been warned about pregnancy by his family and friends. He had loved every phase with Miranda, but this behavior was decidedly different to anything he'd experienced so far.

"Miranda? Are you all right?" He asked cautiously.

Miranda turned to glare at him. "Do I look all right?" She demanded.

Eric wasn't certain what he ought to say so he kept silent. Miranda paced for several more minutes before she turned her head and looked toward a small vineyard. Eric started when his wife clambered over the low stone wall and began to walk through the vineyard. She moved so quickly that Eric was hard-pressed to keep up with her.

"Miranda? Miranda! Where are you going?" Eric called, but his wife ignored him. He vaulted the wall and raced after her.

By the time Eric caught up to Miranda she was deep within the vineyard and she had found a strange circular, gazebo-like structure made entirely out of vine. She was sitting on a strange vine bench and she was panting for breath.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to see if I can find a phone?" Eric asked. He moved forward and gently touched Miranda's shoulder.

"I'm fine," she panted.

"You're leaking!" Eric stared in horror at the growing puddle under his wife.

She glanced down at it. "I think my water broke."

"You think? Come on, we have to get you to a hospital!" He tugged at her arm.

"Too late." Miranda panted a little more. "We'll just have to have it here. Go get the blanket from the trunk."

Several hours, and a lot of swearing, later Miranda and Eric Granger welcomed their beautiful baby girl into the world. As both were Muggles they did not notice the strange golden glow that surrounded the vine grove in which Miranda had given birth. Their daughter gave her first, lusty cry and both parents laughed.

"She's beautiful," Eric murmured.

Miranda smiled down at her daughter. "Of course she is. She's going to be smart as a whip, too."

"Of course," Eric agreed and watched his wife and daughter with a besotted smile.

/\/\/\/\

_Black Family Ancestral Estate, August 1992_

He was the last. Pollux had died two years ago, and Arcturus the old bastard had died last year. Orion… poor Orion had lost everything when Regulus died and his heart had given out on him. Cygnus had heard the rumors, of course. He knew that Orion had begged Arcturus to reinstate Sirius, and that the Patriarch had refused. He knew that Arcturus had planned on Orion and Walburga 'trying again'. Cygnus shuddered reflexively. Walburga had been everything that was wrong with his House personified and he could only imagine Orion's reaction to that news.

Still, that left Cygnus in his current position. There was no heir their House. He had one daughter in Azkaban, one married off with an heir for another House, and one who had been disowned for marrying a Muggleborn wizard. If Andromeda had born a wizard Cygnus would have claimed the boy for their House, but she hadn't. Frustration welled within him and he punched the wall.

"Violence won't solve anything Cygnus," Melania chided him.

Cygnus glared at her. The widow of Arcturus Black had been born a McMillan, and she rarely understood the House that she had wedded. His own wife, cursed be her memory, had died years before. Cygnus had suspected Cassiopeia, but he could never prove it. So instead he had sent her the largest, most impressive flower arrangement he could fine. Cassiopeia hadn't said a word, but she seemed amused by his gifts.

"Nothing can help us now," Cygnus retorted.

"Not after so many years of mismanagement, no," Melania agreed softly.

Cygnus turned to frown at her. She laughed at him.

"I know what they did to you, boy," Melania informed him. Her lips twisted bitterly. "And to me. Did you know that Rosier promised Arcturus sons?"

"And he got a passel of daughters," Cygnus muttered and shook his head.

Marrying at twelve had not been Cygnus' plan. He was only a second year student. It was 1950 for crying out loud. People didn't get married at 12 anymore. Well, discounting his parents. Still, he had no desire to get married so young. It had not been his idea at all. No one had been willing to listen to him anyway. When his bride's wedding dress showed off the small swell of a baby bump, Cygnus had protested vehemently. He had never even _met _Druella Rosier. She was 17 for Merlin's sake! None of that had mattered. He was forced to marry his Patriarch's mistress. After Bellatrix was born, Arcturus urged Cygnus to try with Druella hoping that the resulting child would be a boy. After Narcissa, Cygnus refused to try anymore.

"It's shame," Melania murmured softly.

"All of it is," Cygnus agreed.

Melania snorted and shook her head. "That's true, but what I meant was that if any House desperately needed a Keeper, it's yours."

_A Keeper_. They were legend. There hadn't been a Keeper in centuries. They were rare at the best of times—no one knew how they came to be called. In times past, families tried to keep track of Grove-born Witches, but Keepers, when they were called, could come from anywhere: pureblood, half-blood, or Muggleborn. Merlin, what he would do for a Keeper. The chance to redeem his House, to restore its Honour, for that prize he would move heaven and earth.

"May your words have wings," Cygnus murmured automatically.

Melania sighed and patted Cygnus on the arm. "Stranger things have happened. Remember, with magic all things are possible."

"Hmph." Cygnus moved to the window to look out over the estate. Possible, yes. Probable? Not really.

_Hogwarts, January 1993_

The focus of Sirius' life might have been protecting his godson, but he wasn't so gormless that he'd not noticed the tiny witch who was his godson's best friend. She seemed to be governed by some sort of geas to protect Harry—so fierce was her determination to keep him safe. That sort of loyalty and dedication was commendable, but it was also unusual. Sirius wondered if Harry and the little Muggleborn witch realized how strange her behavior was. It was almost as if… he shook his shaggy head and whined. No, surely not. Harry was still alive, and capable of redeeming his House. If any House needed to be redeemed it was his own.

What was even odder was the witch's familiar Crookshanks. Such help from a familiar was usually only extended to that familiar's witch or wizard, and yet Crookshanks had proved invaluable to Sirius' mission. Later, when he didn't have so much to worry about—when Harry was truly safe—then he would worry about what all of this might mean to him, and to his House.

_Grimmauld Place, Summer 1995_

Despite frequent announcements to the contrary by Molly Weasley, Sirius was not an idiot. Harry was still the center of his world, but he had noticed the way his home responded to Hermione. Grimmauld Place didn't like her. It wanted her out, out, _out_. He wondered if that was because it was the house his mother had chosen as her residence. It was not the ancestral Black estate, and it had never been used by any of the Patriarchs. It was just a little house that had been given to Walburga as a gift when she married Orion. His mother's portrait certainly enjoyed screaming obscenities at the poor little witch. She didn't like being here, he could see it in the way she held herself, but she stayed for Harry. Sirius was convinced the witch would walk through Hell with a smile if it were for Harry. There was a strange feeling in his chest at that thought, and he shoved it down ruthlessly.

"Sirius?"

He turned and saw the witch of his thoughts standing uncertainly in the doorway. He smiled tightly. "Yes Hermione?"

"When will Harry be able to come here?" She wrung her hands nervously and looked up at him with worry in her cinnamon brown eyes.

"Soon poppet," he told her gently. "Just be patient and he'll be here soon."

"What were they thinking!" Hermione bit her lip and began to pace. "Dementors! And Harry! Oh!" She turned to look at him again. "You're going to throttle Mundungus Fletcher, aren't you?"

Sirius growled. "When I get ahold of that man… he'll wish he'd never left his post."

Hermione nodded. "Good."

Sirius blinked at her in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that at all. He grinned at her. "You like the idea of me throttling Dung?"

"He deserves far worse." Anger made her eyes glow for a just a moment.

"I won't argue there." Sirius gave a dry, bitter laugh.

"He is a man without honour."

The pronouncement rang out in the small library. It sounded almost like a proclamation of some sort. Sirius couldn't help the skittering feeling that raced over his spine. He shivered and moved toward his tumbler of Firewhiskey. He had it halfway to his mouth before she spoke again.

"You shouldn't drink so much," she chided.

Sirius' lips twisted in a bitter, self-deprecating smile. "You're not _my_ Keeper, sweetheart." He tossed back the Firewhiskey and welcomed its burn. He turned back to Hermione to see disapproval shining in her eyes. Something twisted in his gut, but he ignored it.

"I'll just go see if Mrs. Weasley needs help," she murmured.

It must have been some urge of masochism that made him continuously compare his godson's friend to a Keeper. Either that or it was the longing for the redemption of his House. That must be it. His desire was making him see Keepers where there were none. Being trapped in Grimmauld Place had forced him to read through far more of the library than he had ever willingly done when he was a boy. As near as he could tell, while his family had always favored a darker sort of magic they hadn't been as bad as the last couple of generations. A bit taciturn, a bit rigid in their views, but not the hate-spewing venom his mother had favored. It made him unbearably sad to see what his House had once been, and to see it now. He was trapped... the last of his House.

/\/\/\/\

_The Burrow, Summer 1996_

"You know Sirius spoke to me a couple times," Tonks murmured to Molly. She paused and glanced about the kitchen before leaning toward the other woman. "About the family, I mean. He said... a couple hundred years ago the Blacks weren't that bad."

"They weren't," Molly agreed.

Tonks nodded and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "He said that he wished that there was a Keeper for the House of Black."

Molly sighed and patted Tonks' hand. "There's no shame in that, dearie. He merely wanted to redeem his House, and who can blame him? Still, it isn't as though you find a Grove-born Witch under every bushel, now is it?"

"I was born in a grove," Hermione offered as she wandered in to the kitchen with Ginny.

The two women seated at the table turned and stared at her with wide eyes.

"What do you mean... you were born in a grove?" Molly whispered.

"It was the funniest thing. My parents decided out of the blue to go on a car trip when Mum was past her due date. Mum made Daddy stop the car by a vineyard. He said it was so strange-she ran so fast that he couldn't keep up and when he found her she was in labor in this strange vine-made grove," Hermione explained while she poured herself a cup of pumpkin juice. "Why?"

"Your birthday is in September, isn't it dear?" Molly asked.

"You know that it is Molly," Hermione laughed. "You sent me cookies last year."

"A Vine Witch," Tonks whispered.

"What?" Hermione looked from woman to woman.

Molly cleared her throat. "If a witch is Grove-born she is identified by the _type_ of grove. You were born in September, in the Vine month, in a grove of vines. You would be considered a Vine Witch."

"Oh." Hermione blinked. "Is that, er, is that common?"

"No," Molly said firmly. She glanced at Tonks who appeared to be stunned and then bit her lip. "Look, Hermione, I can't really explain everything right now, but this is something that you should keep to yourself. Don't tell anyone at school that you're a Vine Witch. Ginny, don't you dare tell anyone either."

Hermione paled. "Is it considered to be a bad thing? Like being Muggleborn?"

"No, of course not dear," Molly rushed to reassure her. She frowned thoughtfully and then looked to Tonks. "Moody wondered about that didn't he?"

"Well, it was a bit odd," Tonks admitted.

"What was odd?" Hermione demanded in a slightly shrill voice.

"Your protectiveness over Harry," Molly explained with a soothing pat on the arm. "It was a bit more than your average young girl would usually exhibit."

Hermione frowned. "But... Harry is so important to the war, and he's already lost so many people in his life. His parents... Sirius. To be honest, I think Sirius' death almost hurts him more because he got a chance to know, he had a glimpse of what his life might have been like if he had a different family."

"Hermione...," Tonks said slowly, but stopped when Molly glared at her.

"That's enough of that, Tonks," Molly said firmly. She looked up at both girls and gave them a bracing smile "It will be fine, Hermione. Just please keep this to yourself for now."

"Okay," Hermione said reluctantly.

/\/\/\

_Hogwarts November, 1996_

"I can't find anything here on Grove-born witches," Hermione muttered to Ginny in disgust. She closed another, large dusty tome and scowled across the table at her friend.

"Don't look at me," Ginny protested. "I have no idea what she was talking about-I've never heard of a Grove-born witch."

"Do you think it might be in the Restricted Section?" Hermione asked with a worried frown.

"I don't know." Ginny gave a small shrug. "I don't think so? When you asked if it was considered a bad thing... I don't think Mum was shining you on. She's a terrible liar."

"So I can't find anything on it in the Hogwarts Library, which is massive, but I probably shouldn't worry?" Hermione snorted.

Ginny sighed "If you hadn't overheard what Tonks and Mum were talking about you wouldn't be worried now."

"I know! I just...," Hermione wrung her hands. "What if it's something that could help Harry? Oh! Or what if it's something that _hurts_ Harry?" Hermione turned pleading eyes to her friend.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Right... because Grove-born Witch Goes on Rampage and Slaughters Innocent Wizards wouldn't have made the headlines somewhere. Come on Hermione! Even if it was rare that's the sort of thing that people would remember and remark on."

"I suppose that's true," Hermione admitted reluctantly.

"Look," Ginny said firmly. "You want to protect Harry. I get that. I think _everyone _knows that."

"He's my number one priority at the moment." Hermione appeared solemn and determined.

"Let's just try and make it through this war in one piece. We'll worry about everything else later." Ginny nodded for emphasis.

"That seems reasonable." Hermione sighed and began gathering all of the books up. "I suppose I should put these away. They were absolutely useless anyway."

_Shell Cottage, April 30 1998_

"What do you mean, you let her leave?" Tonks was glaring with all of her formidable power at Bill Weasley.

"I didn't let her do anything!" Bill glared back at Tonks. "They just up and left!"

"Is it true?" Tonks demanded.

"Bellatrix tortured her with zee Cruciatus," Fleur told Tonks proudly. "But she would not break. She refused to tell her anything."

"Sweet Nimue," Tonks whispered. Her dark eyes were wide with horror and all the blood had drained from her face. "What will Mother say?"

"Hermione will be all right," Bill reassured Tonks. "She's a tough little witch."

"I have to go," Tonks muttered with an air of distraction. "I must go speak to my mother immediately."

"Tonks, wait!" Bill called after her, but the witch hurried away from him. "Well, that was odd, wasn't it?"

"Oui," Fleur murmured. She frowned as she watched her friend walking so quickly that she was almost running.

A loud crash alerted Andromeda Tonks to the entry of her daughter through the wards. She sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward for strength. When she turned to see her ashen-faced daughter all of those thoughts fled.

"Nymphadora! What's happened!" Andromeda demanded. She knew that it was bad when her daughter didn't complain about the use of her given name.

"Mother," Tonks whispered. Her eyes filled with tears and she wrung her hands.

"Spit it out, child!" Whatever had happened, they would deal with it. They would have to do.

"Bellatrix… she… she tortured the Keeper." Tonks could barely push the words past her lips without throwing up. She had told her mother about her suspicions regarding Harry Potter's best friend. Mother hadn't met Miss Granger yet, but she tentatively agreed with her daughter's assessment.

"Sweet Nimue." Andromeda unconsciously echoed her daughter's earlier oath.

Tonks' lips twisted into a grimace. "I said the same thing. Mother, what if she rejects her calling?"

"We can't know that she's meant for our House," Andromeda countered.

Tonks made a frustrated sound. "Mother! Who else could she redeem?"

"Oh, I don't know. Rosier? LeStrange? Nott? Any of the Death Eater families, really. There must be a desire for a Keeper. One must wish to make amends. I don't know if any of my House ever expressed a desire to restore their Honour and save their House," Andromeda explained.

"Sirius did," Tonks countered. "He told me himself!"

Andromeda bit her lip. "Then we must protect the Keeper. I will come with you."

"What about Teddy?" Tonks turned toward the small guest bedroom where her son was currently napping.

"Bloody hell," Andromeda cursed in frustration. "Is there anyone we trust?"

"That _won't_ be fighting? No, not really." Tonks pointed out drily.

"Fine! I will stay here with Teddy," Andromeda growled. She glared at her daughter. "Guard her. She is the only hope of our House."

"I promise," Tonks swore fervently.

Andromeda gave her a short, sharp nod. "Go."

/\/\/\/\

_Hogwarts, May 1, 1998_

The Battle of Hogwarts was terrifying for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that Narcissa did not know where her son was. She searched frantically, and in her searching she noticed the bizarre behavior of Nymphadora Tonks. The witch would not leave the side of Hermione Granger. The fierce determination on her face, and the slightly confused glances being sent her way by both Granger and Remus Lupin made Narcissa pause in her search for Draco.

No matter which way the younger witch went, Tonks tried to maneuver herself between Granger and the worst of the fighting. The resolve on Tonks' face frightened Narcissa because she recognized it. That look of resolve was the same that Andromeda had born when she quit their House. Nothing would break Tonks' determination. Nothing would make her falter.

The Slytherin in Narcissa frowned. _Why_? Why would the daughter of Andromeda care about Harry Potter's pet Mudblood so much? What would make Granger any more special than anyone else? What would make her more important to Tonks than the Boy-Who-Lived himself? More important even than her husband? Narcissa's frown grew deeper. She couldn't puzzle it out. It made no sense to her at all. With a sigh, she went back to her search for Draco.

Later, when Potter was playing dead, and Narcissa was putting her life on the line to protect her son, she spotted the Granger girl again. She was utterly devastated at Potter's supposed death. It was as though her purpose had disappeared. Narcissa paused. She knew the rumors about Potter and his Mudblood—Rita Skeeter still maintained that their relationship was suspect. That was not the face of a witch who had lost her lover. That was the face of someone who was adrift… who had no focus. A movement drew Narcissa's eyes and she watched Tonks hover protectively over the witch, glaring at the Weasley brat when he attempted to comfort the witch.

There was a possessiveness in Tonks' eyes that Narcissa recognized. That was a peculiarly Black look… it said _mine_. Now Narcissa knew that her niece was no follower of Sappho. The chit wouldn't have run off and married the werewolf Lupin if she were. So that look, that possessiveness, must be for her family. Not the Tonks. They were what they were, and they weren't a House. No, that look was for the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Narcissa almost choked on her tongue. _No._ No, it wasn't possible. Still, her niece's actions spoke volumes, and they said that the Granger girl belonged to the House of Black. She stared at Tonks until the other witch turned and frowned at her. She nodded almost imperceptibly toward Granger and quirked one white-blonde brow. Tonk's eyes widened and then she nodded once.

_Sweet Mother of Merlin, Granger was a Keeper. She was __**their**__ Keeper. _Despite her marriage, Narcissa recognized the importance of a Keeper for the House of Black. The redemption of her House—even the thought of it was enough to make Narcissa's chest ache. She experienced the same burning possessiveness that Tonks must be suffering. Granger belonged to _them._ All the blood drained from Narcissa's face. Granger belonged to them, to the House of Black, and her own sister had tortured her. Bellatrix had _dared_ to raise her hand to the Keeper of her House. Fury burned in Narcissa's veins. Bellatrix would pay.

/\/\/\

Hexes flew through air creating a clash of colours and magic that made Hermione's eyes itch, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Harry was alive! Who cared about anything else? The driving need to protect Harry was slightly muted at the moment and Hermione could only theorize that it was because Voldemort was dead. Just as in the last war, Voldemort's death didn't seem to stop his Death Eaters. A few were smart enough to flee—Hermione caught a glimpse of Lucius Malfoy dragging his son from the battlefield. Narcissa was conspicuously absent from his side.

Shock and confusion warred within Hermione when she spied Narcissa Malfoy fighting tooth and nail to get near Hermione. There was a light in Narcissa's eyes that should have terrified Hermione, but it didn't. Somehow, some way, she knew that Narcissa wouldn't hurt her. She turned away from the blonde witch and focused on casting hexes at the Death Eater that was trying to attack Luna.

It had not escaped Hermione's notice that Tonks hadn't left her side during the entire battle. Now Narcissa was fighting like a wildcat to get to her side. To say that the Battle of Hogwarts had become slightly surreal for her was an understatement. Once Narcissa arrived at Hermione's side she looked to Tonks.

"She's taken no hurt?" Narcissa demanded.

Tonks glared at her over Hermione's head. "No, nor will she as long as you keep your wand out."

Hermione was now flanked by Narcissa Malfoy and Nymphadora Lupin. All three women continued to fight despite the strange looks they were getting from both Death Eaters and members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry came near at one point.

"All right Hermione?" He bellowed over the noise.

She nodded. He gave her a thumbs-up sign and moved back toward Ginny and Ron. Sweat ran down her face and she rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. When she pulled the sleeve down Bellatrix Lestrange was standing in front of her. She sucked in a breath, and before she could credit it Narcissa Malfoy and Tonks were standing in front of her—a united wall between her and Bellatrix. She stood on her tiptoes to peer over their shoulders. Bellatrix was frowning at them.

"Cissy? What are you doing with the werewolf's whore and the Mudblood?" Bellatrix demanded.

"I am standing with the House of Black," Narcissa growled furiously. "And _we_ are protecting what is most precious to our House."

Bellatrix snorted in derision. "A Mudblood bint will never be precious to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Move Cissy, and I'll let you live."

"No," Narcissa snapped. "I will not yield."

"Fine. Die then." Bellatrix's smile was chilling and venomous.

The two witches were well-matched and they fought one another viciously. Narcissa Malfoy was pulling no punches today. Hermione notices that several Order members seemed stunned that Narcissa had placed herself in front of Hermione Granger, of all people. Hermione also noticed that Mrs. Weasley didn't look surprised. The Weasley matriarch seemed more resigned than anything else. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the older witch. She was going to have a chat with Mrs. Weasley later.

"_Sectumsempra!_" Bellatrix shrieked.

At the same time Tonks and Narcissa shouted hexes and shot them both at Bellatrix. Hermione couldn't quite hear what the two witches had said, but she saw the two hexes hit one another and crash into Bellatrix. Narcissa crumpled in front of Hermione while Bellatrix sort of… exploded in a shower of blood and gore. Hermione dropped to her knees next to Narcissa and frantically cast the counterspell to _Sectumsempra_.

"_Accio_ Dittany!" Hermione poured dittany liberally into Narcissa's healing wounds. She hoped it wouldn't scar too badly. She supposed that scarring would bother a witch like Narcissa.

Narcissa's eyelids fluttered before they snapped open. She stared up at Hermione with an intensity that was disturbing. "You took no harm?"

"No, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione told her. She pressed down on the older witch's shoulders when she tried to get to her feet. "No, don't move just yet."

Narcissa ignored her and turned to Tonks who smiled at Mrs Malfoy. "It's all right. It appears to be over."

"Thank Merlin," Narcissa whispered and sagged back to the ground.


	2. A Reluctant Saviour

_A/N: She said YES! _

_(I was so nervous posting this story. I was willing to respect Mistra Rose's input, and if she had hated it I fully planned on yanking it. Thankfully, she loved it so we're moving forward.)_

_Okay, so, the Ancient and Noble House of Black is incredibly convoluted and detailed. If you have any questions, I highly recommend that you check out the Black Family tree at the HP Wiki. _

_Also, my team has a BYE this round, which only means good things for you my little darlings. _

/\/\/\/\

"_The Restoration of a fallen House can only be accomplished through a Keeper, but if She so chooses, She can refuse to aid the House. This is especially true if the House has harmed its Keeper; it is for this reason that many wizards are instructed to treat every witch as a potential Keeper. To be Restored the wizards of a House must ask for aid, but the request does not guarantee an answer. No one is certain as to why this is, but there are several theories."_

_Malfoy Manor, May 2, 1998_

"You have some explaining to do, Narcissa." Lucius' grey eyes were icy as he glared at his wife. "For instance, why did you abandon your son to go protect Potter's Mudblood whore?"

The crack of Narcissa's palm against Lucius' cheek echoed in the room. Draco flinched sympathetically. He had never seen his mother so furious. Two spots of colour burned in her pale cheeks and her nostrils flared.

"Don't you dare call her that word," Narcissa hissed in his face.

"Have you been Imperiused?" Lucius demanded. "Draco, scan your mother."

After a cautious glance at his mother Draco took out his wand and carefully scanned her for any coercion spells. "She's clean, Father."

"Of course I am, you idiot man," Narcissa growled at her husband.

"Then why did you leave Draco?" Lucius bellowed. The vein in his temple throbbed.

"He was safe with you," Narcissa screamed back.

"Father, Mother is right. You and I were fine," Draco ventured. His mother turned to look at him. "Why _did_ you protect Granger?"

Narcissa pressed her lips together in a firm line. She appeared to be warring with herself. Finally she sighed and rubbed her temple. "She belongs to the House of Black."

"The House of Black?" Draco was confused. He glanced at his father whose eyebrows were drawn together. Father was concentrating on what his mother had said, but Draco was impatient. What she had just said made no sense whatsoever. "But Mother, the House of Black has fallen."

"The House of Black has fallen," Lucius whispered to himself.

"That's what I just said Father," Draco protested.

Lucius' eyes widened and he stared at his wife. "The House of Black has fallen," he muttered yet again.

Narcissa nodded.

"Are you certain?" Lucius' voice was sharp.

"Of course I'm certain," Draco groused. "Sirius Black died, didn't he? He was the last of the line. I've read _Nature's Nobility_. There's no one else listed for their House."

"Andromeda and Nymphadora believe," Narcissa observed. "It makes a certain sense if you think about it. Miss Granger's obsession with Potter's safety is the key, really. Did you know that Sirius was Harry Potter's godfather?"

"Merlin's teeth," Lucius whispered.

"What are you talking about?" Draco demanded.

"Do try to keep up, Draco darling," Narcissa burst out impatiently. She turned to her son and glared at him. "If a House falls is there no recompense? Is there no recourse?"

Draco blinked. This felt like the quizzes his parents used to give him back when they home-schooled him. Pureblood history and customs had been a large focus. He frowned and began to muse the question aloud. "If a House dies out then... no, that can't be it. Well, really the only possible answer would be an _Arx Domus_, but... no. Mother you can't expect us to believe that... that _Granger_ is a Keeper?"

"Well, she could always reject her calling, especially since _Bellatrix_ tortured her here in this house," Narcissa hissed.

"So you and the werewolf's, er, Mrs Lupin were attempting to ameliorate your sister's actions?" Lucius guessed.

"Of course!" Narcissa glared at her husband. "I might have married into your House, and I might have given you its heir, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to see my House restored."

"You can't be certain that she's a Keeper," Lucius protested.

"I'm willing to take the chance," Narcissa countered.

Lucius sighed and rubbed at his temples. "And if I refuse to recognize her as a Keeper?"

Narcissa's eyes narrowed on her husband's face. "As the Patriarch of the House of Malfoy you, of course, are free to make all decisions regarding your House's future." Here Narcissa smiled at her husband, and she was pleased to note that he paled at the sight of it. "Even if those decisions will ultimately destroy it."

"Narcissa, are you threatening me?" Lucius' voice rose and his eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

A mirthless chuckle bubbled up from her throat. "I won't have to," she sneered at her husband. "If she is a Keeper-I'm not sure who she'll call back, but even if it is just Sirius... what do you think he would do to you if he found out that you had showed his Keeper anything but the deepest respect?"

"I'm not afraid of Sirius Black," Lucius scoffed.

"You should be," Narcissa retorted.

/\/\/\

_Grimmauld Place, May 5, 1998_

A shriek of rage brought Harry and Neville running into the kitchen. A pink-faced, furious Hermione was slamming cupboard doors and muttering darkly under her breath. Harry and Neville edged into the kitchen carefully.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked cautiously.

"She's trying to avoid me," Hermione growled as she slammed the teakettle onto the stove.

Harry frowned. "Who is trying to avoid you?"

"Mrs Weasley!" Hermione fumed at the counter.

"Why is Mrs Weasley trying to avoid you?" Harry had the sinking feeling that he was missing rather large chunks of information.

"Because!" Hermione gesticulated wildly. "She promised to tell me about Grove-born Witches. Now she just keeps putting me off. I mean, I know that Fred was pretty badly injured, but she can't spend _every _minute at St. Mungo's! And then there was Mrs Malfoy and Tonks! People are looking at me oddly every time I leave the house, and the worst part of it is Harry-I don't know why!"

Neville had become very still. "Why do you want to know about Grove-born Witches?"

Hermione flushed and bit her lip. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone," she muttered.

Neville's eyes widened and he took a step toward her. "Hermione, are _you_ a Grove-born Witch?"

Harry moved closer. "It's Neville, Hermione. I'm sure whatever it is, you can tell him."

Hermione looked at both men and then stared at her hands. "Yes," she admitted.

"What are you two talking about?" Harry demanded.

"A Grove-born Witch is a witch who is born in a specific type of grove," Neville explained absently. He turned to look at Hermione. "Your birthday is in September so... Vine?"

"How did you know?" Hermione demanded.

Neville rubbed the back of his neck. "It's part of Celtic lore. They had classifications for different types of trees and shrubs. Your birthday falls in the month of the Vine so if you were a Grove-born Witch then you would be a Vine Witch."

"But _what_ is a Vine Witch?" Hermione begged.

"Well, any Grove-born Witch has the potential to be a Keeper, but the type of grove will determine her gifts," Neville explained.

"Wait, what's a keeper? And what kind of gifts?" Hermione was frowning intensely at Neville and the frustration was rolling off of her in waves.

Neville stared at her for a minute and then looked at Harry. He chuckled nervously. "You're joking, right? This is a joke? Harry?"

"Mate... pretend that we were raised by Muggles and answer Hermione's questions." Harry glared at his friend.

"Sorry." Neville flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. It's just that _everyone _knows about Keepers."

"Obviously not everyone," Hermione bit out between clenched teeth.

"Okay, so, Hermione you're going to hate this, but there's almost nothing written anywhere about Keepers," Neville began.

"What? How can everyone know about them then?" Harry protested.

"It's a legend," Neville explained.

"A legend?" Hermione looked hopeful. "So it's not real then?"

Neville sighed. "My gran is going to murder me," he muttered under his breath. "Look, Hermione, just because it's a legend doesn't make it untrue. It's mostly unwritten because the Houses who are gifted with Keepers aren't willing to reveal their Keeper's secrets to just anyone. The last Keeper anyone's heard of belonged to House Longbottom. So I _know_ that they're real."

"But what is a Keeper? What do they do?" Hermione demanded in a voice that was growing increasingly shrill.

"This must stay between the three of us," Neville insisted. "These are the secrets of my House."

"Of course," Hermione agreed almost immediately. She glared at Harry and poked him in the side. "Well?"

"I promise not to reveal any of the secrets of House Longbottom," Harry swore.

"In the 17th century House Longbottom fell," Neville murmured. He glanced at Hermione and gave her a wry smile. "That means that the last male scion died. The fall of a Noble House is always a tragedy because it means the loss of that family's magical gifts, and the loss of that family's lore and knowledge. It means that a piece of our culture is lost."

"House Longbottom fell?" Harry pursed his lips in thought and then frowned at Neville. "If the last male scion died then how are you even here?"

"A Keeper restored our House." Neville fidgeted slightly. "Keepers have the ability to call back scions who need to restore their honour." He shook his head slightly. "They must have felt remorse and voiced the desire to make amends. They must have wanted to redeem their House."

"Call back?" Hermione had turned rather pale and her eyes went wide. "Neville, you don't mean..."

"A Keeper can bring the wizards of her House back through the Veil." Neville's voice was firm and his eyes dared Hermione to contradict him.

"Wizards?" Harry pressed.

Neville ran a hand through his hair. "It depends on how many of them invoked a Keeper. For our Keeper there were three wizards that she was able to call back, but I have heard as few as one and as many as eight."

"So the Keeper brings back wizards? That's how she restores a House?" Hermione asked.

Neville blushed bright red. "Not exactly. The wizards that she calls are bound to her. If they want to restore their House they can only do so through her."

"That's fascinating," Hermione murmured almost to herself. "I wonder how that works."

"You might end up married to eight wizards and all you can say is _I wonder how that works_?" It was Harry's turn for his voice to turn a little shrill.

Hermione glared at Harry. "It's a perfectly reasonable question. If I don't know how it works then how can I call anyone?"

"Wait, who says you're going to call anyone?" Harry demanded.

"Don't you see?" Hermione waved her hands impatiently. "Why would Mrs Malfoy care whether I lived or died? Why would she face down B-Bellatrix? She said... she said that _I_ was precious to her House. Tonks, too, Harry. Both of them wouldn't let her anywhere near me."

Neville was nodding. "They think you're the Keeper for the House of Black."

"WHAT IF THEY'RE WRONG?" Harry was becoming cross and he was starting to do what Harry normally did when he was upset. Hermione and Neville both winced.

"What if they're right?" Neville countered.

"Do you know how a Keeper calls back the wizards?" Hermione asked.

Neville's shoulders slumped. "No one knows. It's something only the Keeper can do-it's what makes them so special."

Hermione gave Harry a look that made him flush. "If no one knows how to do it then it's not worth arguing over."

"I suppose not," he muttered.

"Thank you so much for all the information." Hermione spontaneously went to grab Neville's hands, but she paused when he automatically moved back. Uncertainty filled her cinnamon brown eyes, and Neville blushed

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it's just... you belong to the House of Black," Neville stammered out anxiously.

The uncertainty fled Hermione's eyes and indignation replaced it. "I belong to no one!"

Neville sighed. "You can say it all you want, Hermione, but the purebloods are going view you as the Keeper for the House of Black. They won't judge you for refusing your calling-not after Bellatrix tortured you."

"I don't know what to think right now," Hermione muttered. She suddenly felt cold and she rubbed her arms helplessly.

"You don't have to think anything right now," Harry countered. He put an arm around Hermione and hugged her to his side. "You don't even know how to do this Keeper thing- let alone if you want to do it. For Merlin's sake, Hermione, we just beat Voldemort a few days ago. Take some time. Think about it."

/\/\/\/\

_Longbottom Estate, May 23, 1998_

"My grandson is worried that he has spoken out of turn," Augusta Longbottom observed. She frowned at Neville for a moment and then turned back to Hermione. "That's absolute poppycock, of course. I would expect any wizard of House Longbottom to extend aid to a Keeper."

"Thank you," Hermione replied after a nervous glance at Harry. He gave her an encouraging look and she felt her resolve strengthen. She turned back to Mrs Longbottom and gave her a nervous smile. "I would appreciate any information you could give me." Here she paused and bit her lip. "Mrs Weasley said she would explain what being a Vine Witch meant, but she's been very busy."

"You thought she was avoiding you," Neville added.

Hermione blushed. "Well, Fred was hurt very badly. I know the entire Weasley family is basically living at St. Mungo's. It's just... I need this information."

"Of course you do." Mrs Longbottom's expression grew stern and slightly disapproving. "Especially after that ridiculous display by Narcissa Malfoy and Nymphadora Tonks. You'll have every idiot who wants to curry favour with the Ancient and Noble House of Black harassing you night and day."

"They were only trying to protect me." Hermione felt obliged to point that out. She frowned thoughtfully. "Was that why Molly Weasley wanted me to keep being a Vine Witch a secret?"

"Well, that and the enemies of the Ancient and Noble House of Black would try to kill you before you could restore the House. Then there are those who are frightened of the power and influence that the House of Black wields. They hold automatic seats on the Wizengamot, own several ancient titles, hold automatic seats as governors on the board of Hogwarts, and Merlin knows what all. Trust me, young lady, Molly Weasley most likely had your best interests at heart," Augusta Longbottom informed her sternly.

Hermione blinked at that onslaught of information. "So you're saying that Mrs Malfoy and Tonks have exposed me as a Keeper?" That thought made a tendril of fear uncoil in her belly.

Mrs Longbottom snorted. She waved a beringed hand at Harry and Hermione. "It didn't help, certainly, but coupled with your behaviour with young Mr Potter it practically screams Keeper to those that know the signs."

Harry scowled at Mrs Longbottom. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, young man, that Miss Granger's unusual devotion to you is typical in a Keeper toward the godchildren of her House," Mrs Longbottom replied coolly.

Hermione's stomach flip-flopped. "Wait, are you saying that I became Harry's friend just because I'm a Keeper?"

The devastation in Harry's eyes made Hermione feel even worse. No matter how much the mere idea upset her-it had to be ten times worse for Harry. Throughout his childhood he had been bereft of love and affection. None of the adults in his life had shown him any kindnesses. Hermione was the one constant in his life, the one person who had never, ever turned her back on him or abandoned him. She automatically reached out to take his hand, and he flinched from her touch.

"Don't be stupid." Mrs Longbottom glared at the both of them. "The need to protect and look after Mr Potter is due to your status as a Keeper. Friendship, love or even affection is no part of that. The Fawley Keeper in the 14th century couldn't stand her House's godchildren, but she still protected them and kept them safe during a local war."

Again, Hermione reached for Harry's hand, and this time he let her take it. "So our friendship is real?"

Mrs Longbottom looked at them as if they were both daft. "Of course it is real. Didn't I just say that?" She turned to glare at Neville. "I thought you said the girl was smart."

Neville flushed. "Hermione is the smartest witch I know," he informed his gran in a quiet, firm voice. He glanced at Hermione and gave her a reassuring smile. "I imagine that all of this is upsetting her because there are no books for her to research."

"Hmph." Mrs Longbottom grunted. She frowned thoughtfully and then turned to Hermione. "I understand your desire, Miss Granger. The ability to access primary source documents would doubtless help you. However, many Keepers and their Houses are extremely reluctant to reveal their secrets by writing them down. Unfortunately, there are very few documents about Keepers, and much of that is wild speculation. Inviting you here, and sharing with you what we know of the Longbottom Keeper, is an expression of trust on our part."

"I understand, Mrs Longbottom," Hermione replied softly. She looked at her hands and then she looked up at Mrs Longbottom. "How do I know what to do?"

Mrs Longbottom pursed her lips and took a sip of tea. "That is a mystery that belongs to the Keepers. The Longbottom Keeper would say only that she knew what to do. She would not reveal what that entailed to anyone."

"So how can I call them back if I don't even know how to do it?" Hermione demanded.

"Do you want to call them back?" Mrs. Longbottom asked. "Neville mentioned that you were uncertain."

"I'm nervous," Hermione admitted. She glanced at Harry and he patted her hand gently. "The Blacks have a certain reputation. I... I'm a little worried about that."

Mrs Longbottom nodded. "That's a valid concern, especially for a Muggleborn witch who knows nothing of Keepers. Would it help you to know that you can only call back wizards who _want_ to restore their honour and their House? You will not be able to call anyone who is evil, or completely unredeemable. In addition, those you call will be bound to you."

"So Hermione's going to end up married to a hundred wizards?" Harry's voice rose and the worry was clear in his eyes.

Mrs. Longbottom snorted in amusement. "I highly doubt that a hundred Black wizards prayed for redemption. Perhaps a handful of wizards, but no more than that."

"You think there might be more than one or two?" Hermione couldn't help her surprise. She suspected Sirius and perhaps Regulus, but she didn't know the House of Black well enough to speculate.

"Well, you wouldn't know because you're all too young," Mrs Longbottom murmured to herself. She snorted. "I doubt Molly Weasley knows. She's a bit too young herself."

"What are you talking about?" Harry's protective nature was coming to the fore. He moved closer to his best friend.

"Cygnus and Orion Black," Mrs Longbottom announced. She sighed and took another sip of her tea. "The Patriarch rules a House. He makes decisions and his House is bound to carry them out. Walburga, for whatever reason, could do no wrong. She decided that she wanted Orion and the House Patriarch gave him to her."

"Gave him to her?" Hermione's skin crawled with revulsion.

Mrs Longbottom nodded. "He ordered Orion to marry her. He did so reluctantly. Rumour has it that he died right after Regulus because the Patriarch told him he'd have to bed Walburga and produce another heir."

"But... they were married." Hermione was confused. Didn't married people sleep together? Merlin knew that her parents had embarrassed her with their, er, marital activities numerous times.

Thinking about her parents made Hermione's chest ache. She tried not to blame herself, and Professor McGonagall had told her over and over that it wasn't her fault. Hermione had planned to alter their memories and send them off to Australia. She had planned every last detail. She just hadn't done it soon enough. A quick trip to the corner market, and the local used bookstore, and when she had arrived home her parent's house was smoking ash with the Dark Mark in the sky overhead. She shook her head and focused on Mrs Longbottom.

"Usually, yes," Mrs Longbottom agreed. "Even among arranged marriages the parties can come to some kind of agreement. Most of them end up fond of one another, or grow to love one another. Orion loathed Walburga, and had since they were children. He didn't want to marry her at all, and once he provided the heir and the spare required of him he refused to touch her." Here she shrugged. "I knew Walburga Black. A more disagreeable witch I've yet to meet."

"What about the other wizard? Cygnus?" Hermione asked.

"Poor Cygnus. He was married off at the age of twelve to the Patriarch's mistress who was already pregnant with his child." Mrs Longbottom's lip curled back in a sneer. "His time at Hogwarts was miserable. He was from a cadet branch of the family, he would most likely never become Patriarch, and he had been humiliated by his Patriarch. He was teased, even among his fellow Slytherins, about his wife. It was common knowledge among purebloods that Bellatrix was actually Arcturus' daughter."

"How awful," Hermione whispered. Her cinnamon brown eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears.

"I'm not as familiar with the younger Blacks," Mrs Longbottom continued. "My Frank went to school with them. Judging by what Frank said about Sirius Black it is possible that he might have asked for a Keeper."

A memory suddenly came to Hermione and she gasped. "He was so bitter," she muttered almost to herself. "I didn't know what he meant at the time."

"Who was bitter? Sirius?" Harry frowned in concentration. He knew that his godfather had been very angry about being trapped in Grimmauld Place. He remembered several times that his godfather had lashed out at others. Never at Harry, but the other residents had been fair game.

Hermione nodded. "It was before our fifth year. I told him he ought not to drink so much and he told me I wasn't his Keeper. I didn't know what he meant at the time. I thought he was just… well, it doesn't really matter now."

"Then he is a definite possibility as well," Mrs Longbottom observed. She gave Hermione a considering look. "Still, that is a just a few wizards, not nearly a hundred."

"Thank you Mrs Longbottom." Hermione leaned forward. "I appreciate your time, and your willingness to share your knowledge."

"Of course," Mrs Longbottom sniffed.

/\/\/\/\

_Grimmauld Place June 6, 1998_

"What should I do, Harry?" Hermione whispered.

Harry blanched. "Merlin, Hermione, I don't know!"

Hermione frowned at him. "You don't care that I could bring Sirius back?"

"Or, you know, a bunch of other wizards and _not_ Sirius," Harry pointed out. He rubbed his temples. "Why are we talking about this? You don't know how to call them back."

"I don't," Hermione agreed. She sighed heavily. "No one knows how. It's some great mystery of Keepers." She glared in the direction of the library. "What good is it being a Keeper if I can't even figure out how to do it?"

"So maybe you just… don't try," Harry suggested.

Hermione frowned at him. "You did hear the part about people trying to kill me so that I won't bring back the House of Black, didn't you?"

Harry sighed. "I did, I just… I'm worried about you," he admitted. "I feel badly because I want you to do this—to bring them back—and then I feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. I _hated_ that everyone expected me to save them, and now I'm doing the exact same thing to you."

"Oh Harry." Hermione smiled fondly at her best friend and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for telling me."

Truthfully, she had started to worry that Harry was strongly opposed to her being a Keeper. She was afraid to tell him that she had begun to feel a strange, steady pressure that she suspected was the need to call back the wizards of the House of Black. She hypothesized that her need to keep Harry safe had superseded all other concerns, but now that he was safe the Calling for a Keeper was growing louder. At times it was as though _something _was calling to her magic. It was the faintest whisper along her magical senses and it usually only happened just as she was about to fall asleep, or just as she was waking up.

"I wouldn't blame you," Harry mumbled into her shoulder. "If… if you do figure out how to do it and Sirius doesn't come back, I wouldn't blame you."

"What?" Hermione pulled back to stare at Harry.

He blushed and wouldn't look her in the eye. "Mrs Longbottom made it clear that the wizards would have had to _ask _for help. I know that everyone thinks that I don't… that I didn't see Sirius clearly, but I did. He wasn't the sort of bloke to ask for help. He thought he was supposed to help everyone else."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He reminds me of someone," she muttered under her breath.

Harry bumped her shoulder with his. "Hey! We Gryffindors all have this saving people thing," he informed her haughtily. His gaze narrowed on her face and he smirked at her. "You know if you do this I'm going to tease you forever. I only saved wizarding Britain. You're going to bring people back from the dead."

"Oh shut up." Hermione smacked him on the shoulder.

/\/\/\/\

_June 15, 1998 The Burrow_

After six anxious weeks Fred had been released from St. Mungo's Hospital. Mrs Weasley had a welcome home party at the Burrow and she invited the entire Order. Harry and Hermione debated (or argued loudly enough to set off Mrs Black's portrait) about whether or not it was safe enough for Hermione to attend, but in the end Harry capitulated and Hermione went. She Flooed straight from Grimmauld Place to the Burrow because she conceded that it might be dangerous for her to be in public.

Arriving at the Burrow was slightly awkward for Hermione. She knew too much now. She felt as though there was a blazing neon sign with a great arrow pointed straight at her that read "property of the House of Black". It wasn't as though she expected anyone to point or whisper, but it made her uncomfortable. She hugged Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny easily, but she found herself shying away from hugging anyone else automatically. Once she realized what she was doing she consciously hugged Fred.

"All right Hermione?" Harry asked with a worried gleam in his eyes.

Hermione nodded absently. "I'm fine," she murmured.

"Er, Harry, you do remember that it was _Fred_ who spent six weeks in St. Mungo's, right?" Ginny reminded him with an arched eyebrow.

Harry flushed. "Sorry Fred. How are you?"

"Right as rain," Fred stated confidently and grinned at everyone. "I only stayed so long because I was trying to convince one of the Healer Trainees to go out with me."

George snorted and shook his head in amusement. "Lisa Turpin's got more sense than to say yes to you, you tosser."

"Hey Hermione." Ron hugged her tightly. She tried to return his embrace, but was plagued by a sense of uneasiness. He pulled back and whispered in her ear. "Can we talk later?"

Reluctantly Hermione nodded. She had a feeling that she knew what Ron wanted to talk about and she was dreading it. There was a time when she would have been thrilled—last year she would have been over the moon—but now, after everything all of them had been through together, it just felt a little off. She supposed it would be easy to blame that on the whole Keeper thing, but Hermione was too honest with herself to try that. No matter how hard she tried, she and Ron just didn't fit well together. Their interests were too dissimilar, and they were too impatient with each other's differences.

"And I made your favourite treacle tart," Molly told Harry.

Hermione blinked and tried to pretend that she'd been paying attention. Judging by the winks Fred and George sent her way she had failed. They all filed into the dining room dutifully and everyone took their places. Hermione ended up wedged between Tonks and Remus Lupin.

"Are you well Hermione?" Tonks asked cautiously.

"I, yes, thank you," Hermione said. She glanced up at Tonks and then looked down at her table and flushed.

"Mother would like to invite you to tea," Tonks continued. She paused. "If it would be acceptable to you Mother would like to invite Mrs Malfoy as well."

Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice as her heart pounded in her chest. "Can Harry come with me?"

"Of course," Tonks replied automatically.

"Have your mother owl me at Grimmauld Place," Hermione decided at last.

After a slightly awkward lunch Hermione wandered outside; she found being outside and away from the press of people made her relax almost immediately. This new knowledge of herself made her hyperaware of everyone around her. As far as she knew the only people who were certain of her status as a Keeper were Tonks, Harry, and Mrs Weasley. It was possible that Professor Lupin knew as well, but Hermione wasn't sure.

"Hermione?" Ron called to her hesitantly.

She turned around and offered him a tremulous smile. "Ron."

"Is it all right if we talk now?" He asked.

Hermione nodded. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

"Well," Ron cleared his throat and stared at his feet. The tips of his ears were flushed and he tugged at his robes. "You and I have been friends for a long time now, yeah?"

"Yes we have," Hermione agreed.

"Right." Ron nodded. "And you know that I care about you, and that your friendship is important to me," he continued.

All of the blood drained from Hermione's face and her palms grew clammy. _This was not happening_. She loved Ron—he was one of her best mates—but she wasn't _in love_ with him. "Look, Ron," she began uncertainly. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "You're a very special person in my life; I want you to know that."

"I want to start again with Lavender," Ron blurted out.

Hermione blinked and stared at him. He was blushing furiously now and he couldn't look her in the eye. "Oh."

"You… you're not mad are you?" He asked with a miserable expression on his face.

Relief flooded her and she felt the ridiculous urge to giggle madly. "No Ron, I'm not mad," she managed to say with a straight face.

"Oh, thank Merlin," he said with a big sigh. He grinned at her and patted her on the shoulder. "I'm glad we could talk Hermione."

"Yes. It was nice." She smiled weakly at him.

Ron wandered back toward the Burrow leaving Hermione alone. She sagged against a nearby tree and began to laugh. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as uncontrollable giggles spilled passed her lips. She had assumed that Ron was trying to ask her out—when really he was trying to let her down gently. He was probably worried about a repeat of their sixth year and being attacked by transfigured birds. Another paroxysm of giggles overtook her and clung to the tree for support.

"Hermione?" Harry stood nearby with a look of concern on his face. "Did you get hit with a jinx?"

The giggles ended as soon as they had begun. Hermione wiped the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands and turned around. "I'm fine, thank you."

Harry just looked at her disbelievingly.

"Ron is going to start again with Lavender," Hermione offered. She smiled cheerfully at Harry. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"I guess so?" Confusion filled Harry's eyes.

"I'm going to tea at Mrs Tonks' house," she added. "You'll come with me, won't you?"

Harry nodded. "Were you upset about that? You don't have to go. They probably just want to talk about," Harry paused and peered about the back yard. Then he leaned forward and whispered. "You know."

"I know." Hermione sighed and rubbed at her temples. "I think... I think I want to try. Maybe they'll be able to help me."

"Andromeda Tonks seemed rather formidable," Harry observed.

"Well, if she can help me figure all of this out then she can be as formidable as she wants to be," Hermione retorted.

Harry snorted. "Be careful what you wish for," he warned her.

"What are you two doing out here?" Ginny called from the back door. "Come on, mum's about to serve dessert."

"Coming!" They both called.


	3. Standing at the Gate

_**A/N:**__ When dealing with primary source documents that are hundreds of years old, and were most likely stored somewhere that was NOT light and moisture regulated, damaged manuscripts, scrolls and tablets are common. Often scholars do not get to work with a whole cohesive manuscript, but rather a series of fragments. When there is a missing spot or hole in the manuscript it is called a 'lacuna'. When the scholar records the text the lacuna is indicated by an ellipsis (...). _

_Ex: Draco knew that … Potter was a bad idea. _

_The ellipsis in the above sentence denotes information that was absent in the original text. _

_**Additional Note:**__ Annwn is the Celtic Underworld, and Arawn is the ruler of Annwn. The hounds of Annwn and the Hunt are elements of Celtic mythology. There is a myth involving a roebuck, a lapwing, and a hound. I hesitated to equate Hermione with the roebuck because in the HP-verse a doe is synonymous with Lily Potter. Therefore Hermione is a lapwing, which is a type of bird. _

_**Updates: **__I usually write for the QLFC. This round we have a BYE (which means my team does not have to write, and gets a little break) so you are seeing far more updates, far more quickly than you normally will. I don't usually have a set day of the week because my Muse is a cheeky monkey that scoffs at deadlines. I will *try* to do one every two weeks. _

_/\/\/\/\_

"_The Keeper is the Refuge and the Citadel of Her House's Honour. The wizard who desires a Keeper, who asks for Her aid, may find his House restored, but at a price. All Great Magic requires a Sacrifice freely given. The Restoration of a House requires a Sacrifice from the Keeper and from the wizards who would be Redeemed. The Keeper's Sacrifice is one of the mysteries of their kind, and much speculation has been made as to its nature. The wizards sacrifice the chance to go to the next world whether that be the Otherworld, or reincarnation. They wait in stasis until their Keeper Calls them, and if she does not Call then they are trapped there forever."_

_/\/\/\/\_

_Tonks' Residence, June 30, 1998_

"Thank you for coming Miss Granger," Andromeda Tonks murmured as she filled Hermione's cup.

"I'm hoping that you can help me, Mrs Tonks," Hermione admitted.

Andromeda appeared surprised. "I would think it would be the other way around." She paused for a moment and seemed to be considering Hermione. "And please, call me Andromeda."

"Thank you. Please call me Hermione. Well, as you may know, I'm a Muggleborn." Hermione couldn't help but glance at the slender blonde figure sitting next to Mrs Tonks… Andromeda.

"I believe I had heard that," Andromeda replied with a twitch of her lips.

"This last year made me aware that I'm unfamiliar with much of your world, and now I find out that there's even more that I don't know." Hermione scowled. She wasn't sure if anyone could really understand her frustration with the current situation. It wasn't that she didn't want to help the House of Black. To be honest, she wasn't sure if it was a question of _wanting_ to help. She suspected that Harry was more right than he knew. For whatever reason, she was the 'Chosen One' for the House of Black. After listening to Augusta Longbottom, and learning of Cygnus and Orion she was even more determined to help, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't try to learn as much as she could about Keepers.

Andromeda nodded gravely. "Of course. Do you have any questions for us? We will answer them to the best of our ability."

"Do you know how I'm supposed to do it?" Hermione demanded.

"You mean you will? You're not going to refuse?" Mrs Malfoy blurted out. She appeared genuinely shocked.

"I will try," Hermione conceded. Then she shrugged helplessly. "But I have no idea how to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do."

"No one does," Mrs Malfoy offered.

"Yes, I know, it's a Mystery of Keepers." Hermione made a face and Tonks snickered from her spot next to her mother. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm meant to bring them back."

"I understand your frustration," Andromeda replied. She stared at her lap for a moment and then looked up at Hermione. A fragile vulnerability flickered in her face for just a moment before it vanished as though it had never been there. "When I left my House, I knew the consequences. Our Patriarch was… an unforgiving wizard."

Mrs Malfoy snorted. "I suppose that's more polite than saying he was a complete and utter bastard."

Andromeda cleared her throat and gave her sister a quelling look. "My father sent me a package, secretly, just before his death."

"What package?" Mrs Malfoy demanded. "And why did he send it to you?"

"To answer your second question, I believe he considered you to be allied firmly with House Malfoy. I wasn't certain about whether or not you were a Death Eater like Bella. It's possible that Father wasn't certain either. I doubt he asked you." Andromeda pointed out.

Mrs. Malfoy pulled up her left sleeve and waved her bare, unblemished arm in her sister's face. "The answer is no," she retorted. She sighed and pulled her sleeve down. "I was trying to get pregnant during the First War. Lucius used that as an excuse to keep me out of Voldemort's Inner Circle."

"The point," Andromeda interjected firmly with another stern look at her sister, "is that Father wanted this far, far away from his House. I can only guess that he thought it would be safe with me."

Hermione watched the exchange between the two sisters, and shook her head. When she had been invited to tea she had imagined a number of scenarios, but this had not been among them. She noticed that Tonks was surprised as well, but the other witch appeared to be biting her lips to keep from laughing. Harry had moved closer to Hermione, and glanced at her with wide eyes.

"What was in the package?" Hermione asked loudly.

"A book," Andromeda replied. She pulled a small, slim volume from her robes and handed it to Hermione. She gave Hermione an apologetic look. "There isn't much there, and most of it is conjecture. It doesn't explain how to Call them back, or provide any sort of ritual."

_De Arces Domuum_. Hermione traced the title with her fingertips. Finally, a book about Keepers.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"If you can restore our House…" Mrs Malfoy's voice grew thick and she paused to clear her throat. "We will owe you more than our thanks."

Hermione blushed. "That's not necessary," she muttered.

Andromeda shrugged. "We cannot control how we feel."

Mrs Malfoy snorted in amusement. "Blacks have never been very good at that."

"No," Andromeda agreed with a small smile.

/\/\/\/\

_Grimmauld Place, October 28, 1998_

As usual, Harry found Hermione in the library at Grimmauld Place pouring over the slim volume, and making copious notes. Andromeda had dismissed it out of hand, but after _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ Hermione wasn't willing to do that. Anything that looked promising earned a small notation in Hermione's neat handwriting. She had been researching for months, but she had made little headway. There was so little on the subject—even less than the Deathly Hallows—that it made research slow and painstaking. She frowned at her notes and sighed. There was another long night of research ahead of her. She knew that Harry, Andromeda and Mrs Malfoy had become resigned due to her lack of progress, but she refused to give up.

"It's getting late. I'm heading to bed. You want me to have Kreacher check on you in a few hours?" Harry offered.

Hermione stared at Harry. "You're bloody brilliant."

"Er, thank you?" He grinned at her. "I think you're pretty brilliant yourself."

"Kreacher?" Hermione called tentatively.

After several minutes Harry sighed and called Kreacher.

"Yes Master?" Kreacher bowed low. Harry was still not used to the new, polite Kreacher. The change in behaviour still made Harry a little nervous.

"Hermione needs your help," Harry informed him tightly. He longed to yell at the House Elf, but then Hermione would give him another lecture and he tried to avoid those at all costs.

"Master wants Kreacher to help his… friend?" Kreacher spasmed in her general direction. He had apparently adopted the general policy of not referring to Hermione rather than call her a Mudblood.

Harry's gaze narrowed on his House Elf. Hermione shot him a look and he smirked back at her. "Kreacher, the Keeper for the House of Black requires your assistance." They had avoided talking about it out loud, but perhaps it might be the impetus needed to kick start Kreacher into helping Hermione.

Kreacher's eyes widened impossibly. He stared at Hermione and then he turned to Harry and frowned. "Is Master teasing Kreacher?"

Harry shook his head. "Mrs Malfoy and Mrs Tonks both think she's the Keeper. Will you help her?"

Kreacher appeared to be frozen. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Finally he shook his head and turned to Hermione. He bowed so low that his ears brushed the floor. "How can Kreacher help the Keeper?"

Hermione leaned forward eagerly. "Do you know how I can find out about what I'm meant to do? Is there some sort of ritual written down somewhere?"

"That is a secret that belongs to the Keepers," Kreacher said slowly. He appeared to be distressed that he didn't have the answers that Hermione needed.

"What about this house?" Hermione asked. "Are there any books here? Any that Master Regulus may have shown you or asked you to hide that have to do with Keepers?"

Kreacher frowned and shook his head so that his great ears flapped slightly. "No, but there is Master Regulus' diary. He was hiding that, and only Kreacher knows where it is."

"Would you let me read it?" Hermione asked in a gentle, soothing voice. "Maybe he left me clues so that I can Call him back?"

"Kreacher will go fetch it right now!" The House Elf left with a loud crack.

The diary of Regulus Black began after Sirius left his House. It carefully recorded Regulus' fears for himself and for his House.

"_I fear the only recourse we have left is a Keeper. I ask for one nightly, but I'm not certain what good it will do. Keepers come when they will, not when we will."_

"_It is impossible to find credible information. I've done what I can, but I don't know if it will be enough."_

Harry eventually went to bed and left her alone in the library. Kreacher made her promise to call him if she needed anything at all, and then he headed to the kitchen. Hermione avidly read the entries in Regulus' diary. Normally, she would feel odd reading someone's private thoughts, but the idea that she might end up bound to a wizard she didn't know absolved her guilt. Sometime in the early morning hours she came across an entry unlike the others.

"_I was able to steal a few hours in the Dark Lord's library, and I found a scroll so ancient that it was almost crumbling. I don't believe that the Dark Lord realized what it was. It appears as though he thought it was just some sort of spell to bring back the dead. I'm not sure if he thought it was a spell similar to the one that creates Inferi, or if he thought it called back a wizard's soul. _

_I have copied the text exactly, but there were several lacunae in the scroll itself. I hope it is complete enough._

_When the Veil grows thin, and the path to Annwn is open;_

_Shall the Keeper stand at the Gate and Call. _

_With Her Blood shall she Anoint the Gate, _

_With Her Tears shall She …, _

_By Her Sweat shall She Call them forth. _

_May the Heart of the Keeper be steadfast, _

_May the Mind of the Keeper be …, _

… _the Soul of the Keeper be constant. _

_Blessed is the House that has a Keeper,_

_And Blessed are the wizards Called._

_This is the clearest description I have ever seen of the Ritual of Calling. I don't know what the 'gate' could be unless it is one of the magical historical sites. It implies that the Veil is a physical presence, but I've never heard of or read anything like that. _

_My Lady, I can only hope that this helps you. Take pity on my House, we need you. I don't know who you will Call, but I promise you that we will not fail you."_

The words swam in front of Hermione's eyes and she blinked rapidly to bring them back in focus. She could feel her cheeks heating up as Regulus' final words to her sank in. Even without knowing her, he was looking forward to her arrival. It was odd to think about-that someone who had never met her, and did not know her, was thinking about her. She pressed her hands to her cheeks to cool them and tried to concentrate on the text in front of her.

When the Veil grew thin… that sounded familiar. Hermione started flipping through her notes and gasped when she found it. According to legend, the Veil grew thin on two nights of the year. The first was May Day or Beltane, and the other was Samhain or All Hallows' Eve.

All Hallows' Eve was in just a few days. Regulus might not have known where to find a physical manifestation of the Veil, but Hermione did. She chewed on her lower lip absently. Should she tell Harry, or was this something she could only do alone? Hermione hadn't been conscious when Sirius had been taken by the Veil, but she had heard about it from Professor Lupin and several others. She knew that Harry could _hear_ the Veil and that he had been attracted to it. That frightened her. The last thing she wanted to do was lose Harry to the Veil while she was trying to Call the House of Black. She could beg his forgiveness later… if it even worked.

/\/\/\/\

_Grimmauld Place, October 30, 1998 (Midnight)_

Harry was asleep. Hermione had already checked ten times. Thank Merlin he was used to her staying up late to research. She had tried to act normally the last few days, but she wasn't sure if she had been successful. She thought Harry was watching her with an odd expression, but sometimes he did that when she was in full research mode. The house was completely silent. Hermione took a deep breath and sighed. She had dressed for stealth: jeans, a jumper, and a pair of comfortable trainers. She clutched her beaded bag in shaking fingers.

"Kreacher?"

"What can Kreacher do for the Keeper?" The House Elf asked.

Hermione knelt down to his level. "Can you take me to the Veil room in the Department of Mysteries?"

Kreacher's eyes grew wide as he realized the implications of her request. "Is the Keeper going to Call Master Regulus back through the Veil?"

"I'm going to try, but I need your help," she whispered. "I don't what condition the wizards will be in. I don't know if they'll be hurt or sick in anyway. You might have to bring them here."

"Kreacher will take the Keeper, and Kreacher will help with the wizards," he said resolutely.

"Thank you Kreacher," Hermione breathed. She stood up and stared at him. "What do I need to do?"

"Kreacher will have to hold the Keeper's hand," he explained.

Hermione grabbed his hand. "Okay. Let's go. It's almost time."

With a crack they were gone from Grimmauld Place and standing in the Veil room. Hermione stared at the Veil; the stone arch seemed menacing. She had never been in this room and awake, and she peered around cautiously. The Veil seemed to flutter, but there was no breeze. A shiver went down her spine. She moved toward it slowly, but she stopped when a dark figure moved in front of it.

"Who approaches the Gate of Annwn?" The figure demanded in a resonant voice. His head was covered with a black hood, and he was swathed in black robes that seemed to flutter with the same non-existent breeze that made the Veil flutter.

"The Keeper for the House of Black," she replied in loud, clear voice. She clutched the hem of her jumper to hide her shaking hands.

"Are you willing to pay the price?" The figure asked.

A frisson of fear went through Hermione. She knew there was a sacrifice involved, but no one knew what it was. Despite the few slim volumes and Regulus' notes she had no idea what was going to happen tonight. She swallowed her fear. "I am," she replied in a shaky voice.

"Very well," the figure murmured.

The snick of his sword leaving its scabbard was Hermione's only warning. The figure placed the blade tip at her heart, which was pounding so loudly that she was certain anyone could hear it.

"You are trying to take that which belongs to me," the figure continued. "I demand payment for what is mine. I require your blood, your sweat, and your tears."

"I will give it freely," Hermione swore. Even though she couldn't see his face, she sensed a mocking smile.

"We shall see."

_The baying of hounds filled the air and Hermione could feel her heart stuttering in her breast. Adrenaline raced through her veins, and she pumped her wings to gain altitude. She needed to escape the hounds. If they caught her, she would lose. The pounding of hooves echoing through the woods made Hermione's fear ratchet even higher. The Hunt was coming for her. _

_No matter how hard she flew, no matter how far she flew, the Hounds stayed with her. It felt as though she had been flying for days, but in Annwn time flowed differently so it was difficult to tell. She may have been flying for years, or it might have been minutes. Hermione's wings ached, and she longed to stop, but she could not. If she stopped, the House of Black would fall. _

_A whistling sound was her only warning before an arrow pierced her breast. A scream was ripped from her lips as she plummeted to the forest floor. She landed with a heavy thud and she whimpered in pain. She could feel her heart's blood pumping out of her with every laboured breath she took. Heavy boots walked closer and closer to her, and Arawn knelt by her. Even though she was in agony, she watched him as he leaned down to her._

"_You did not give up," he observed. "You were steadfast and focused. Your heart, your soul, and mind remained focused on your goal. Despite overwhelming odds you stayed true to the House of Black." He picked up her small body and lifted it in one hand. "A worthy sacrifice!" He proclaimed. _

"_A worthy sacrifice!" The Hunt bellowed back. _

_Hermione took one last breath and saw dark spots appear before her eyes. _

"_Rest, my Lady," Arawn murmured. _

Hermione woke with a gasp and bolted upright. The dark figure moved forward and held out a hand. She tentatively placed her hand in his, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She knew, now, who he was.

"Arawn," she murmured.

He bowed elegantly. "At your service, my Lady," he replied. He paused and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "For tonight, at least."

"What do I do now?" She asked.

"You have paid the price to Annwn," he explained. "You have access for this one night. Use it well, my Lady." He appeared to shimmer in front of her eyes and then he was gone.

Hermione opened her bag and pulled out a small knife. She cut her palm carefully and pressed it to the stone of the arch, anointing it with her blood. Her eyes filled with tears as the rough stone gouged the wound and she let them fall. The fear that had ridden her through her sacrifice was cooling on her skin. She absently swiped at her brow with a bloody hand. The sweat stung her wound, bringing new tears to her eyes. The arch began to glow. Hermione stepped back. She was supposed to Call back her wizards, but she wasn't sure how to do that. After everything else that she had done, she couldn't stop now.

"Um, hello?" She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "I am the Keeper of the House of Black. I'm, um, I'm here for my wizards?"

The Veil rippled and Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle to keep from trembling. A young man stepped out of the Veil and looked around curiously. He was tall and slender with a slightly arrogant air to him. He had dark grey eyes, and full, almost pouty lips. His nose was aristocratic and he had a strong jaw with a slight cleft in his chin. He was a very handsome man Hermione decided.

"Master Regulus!" Kreacher cried ecstatically and began weeping.

"Kreacher?" Regulus' eyes widened and he turned toward the House Elf. "What are you doing here?"

"Kreacher brought the Keeper," the House Elf announced proudly.

Regulus whirled until he spotted Hermione and then he froze. "My Lady," he whispered.

"Hello." Hermione smiled weakly.

Regulus moved forward and took her hand in his. "Thank you," he murmured fervently and kissed the back of her hand.

"Your journal was the key," she admitted shyly.

"You found it?" Regulus' fingers tightened on her and Hermione was surprised to see pride in his eyes. "You are as clever as you are beautiful. We are truly blessed."

"We?" Hermione echoed him.

"The House of Black," he elaborated. He gave her a self-deprecating smile. "I doubt I'm the only one who will be called."

At that moment the Veil rippled again, and Hermione automatically turned toward it. Another wizard stepped through the Veil. He, too, was young and tall, but he was broader in the shoulder than Regulus. Where Regulus was striking and handsome, this wizard was teeth-achingly beautiful. He was almost pretty, but he emanated power and strength. His eyes were a lighter shade of grey, his cheekbones well-defined, and his lips full. His resemblance to an avenging archangel in a painting she'd seen once was unsettling.

"Regulus?" The wizard looked surprised to see him there.

Regulus let go of Hermione's hands. "Father?"

The two wizards embraced, and Regulus pulled him eagerly over to Hermione. "This is our Keeper, Father," Regulus introduced Hermione. "My Lady, this is my father, Orion Black."

"It is an honour," Orion murmured and bowed deeply.

Hermione blushed. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Who else do you think will come through?" Orion asked Regulus.

"I'm not sure," Regulus replied. He turned to Hermione. "Do you know, my Lady?"

Hermione bit her lip. She wasn't sure if she should say; what if she got their hopes up and she was wrong? The arch was still glowing, and Hermione suspected that meant it was still active. "I'm not certain. There may be one or two more."

As soon as she was done speaking, the Veil rippled once more. The wizard that stepped through this time was tall and slender like Regulus. His eyes were darker, almost black, and he had a strong jaw. Hermione almost felt the urge to roll her eyes. Was _every_ wizard of the House of Black gorgeous? Didn't they have at least _one_ ugly duckling?

"Cygnus!" Orion cried joyfully and went to embrace his cousin. Then he practically dragged Cygnus over to Hermione. "This is our Keeper," he said in a reverent voice that made her blush once again.

"My Lady," Cygnus murmured and bowed just as deeply as Orion had done. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Hermione murmured.

"Is anyone else coming?" Cygnus asked.

Hermione turned back to the Veil. "It's still glowing," she muttered.

All three wizards turned and scrutinized the Veil. It rippled one more time, and one more wizard stepped through. Although he was much younger-looking, and much healthier-looking than she remembered- his handsome face was still instantly familiar.

"Sirius!" Hermione cried in relief.

Sirius stared at her in surprise. "Hermione?"

"Are you familiar with our Keeper, Sirius?" Cygnus asked with a frown.

"Our Keeper?" Sirius echoed. He blinked and then looked at Hermione who was biting her lip and staring up at him with those cinnamon brown eyes.

"I guess you were wrong." She informed him quietly.

"I was wrong?" Sirius echoed again.

Hermione shifted slightly on her feet. "You said I wasn't your Keeper." She reminded him softly.

"You did _what_?" Orion demanded in a horrified voice.

"It's a long story," Sirius muttered and dull flush rose in his cheeks.

"Which you will explain," Orion retorted.

"We should probably leave soon," Hermione murmured with a worried glance at the Veil. It had stopped glowing, which she assumed meant that there were no more wizards left to come through. Arawn frightened her, and she wasn't willing to push him.

"Of course, my Lady," Regulus agreed. He turned to Kreacher. "Can you take all of us at once?"

Kreacher nodded exuberantly. "Kreacher can take all of you," he stated confidently.

"The library please, Kreacher," Hermione suggested.

They all held hands and Kreacher Apparated them with a crack. The four wizards glanced around with curiously and then turned back to Hermione.

"What now, my Lady?" Orion asked.

"Well, ultimately we will restore your House," Hermione replied. She frowned, and bit her lip. "How do we do that?"

"Food and then sleep," Sirius suggested.

"Kreacher?" Hermione turned in a circle looking for the House Elf. He was standing near Regulus looking up at him with adoring eyes. Hermione smiled fondly. "Kreacher?"

"Yes Keeper?" Kreacher reluctantly pulled himself away from Regulus' side.

"I believe our wizards are hungry. Do you think that you can whip something up in the kitchen?" She asked gently.

Kreacher nodded eagerly. "Kreacher will make an early breakfast for the young Masters."

Hermione blinked at that, but Kreacher was right. She hadn't really paid attention when she Called them through the Veil because she was still disoriented from her sacrifice. They were all very young looking. She knew that Regulus had died when he was only 19 years old so she imagined he looked as he had at his death. Orion, Cygnus, and Sirius had been much older and they all appeared to be just a couple years older than Regulus and herself. It might be part of restoring the House. Hermione supposed that it would be more helpful to have young wizards redeem their family's honour, especially if it took years to do so.

/\/\/\/\

Once Kreacher had a meal ready he popped back in the library to alert them. Regulus watched their Keeper smile kindly at Kreacher and he felt warmth spread through his chest. Sirius had called her Hermione, and Regulus thought that it suited her. Regulus offered her his arm and she blushed furiously, but she slipped her arm through his. His father and Cousin Cygnus nodded approvingly, and Regulus knew that there was a ridiculous smile on his lips as he led their Keeper to the kitchen. He had just met her, and he already liked her.

"Why did you assume we had no Keeper?" Orion demanded partway through their meal.

Sirius sighed. "At that point, Father, I had given up all hope." He leaned forward and looked down the table at their Keeper. "I'm sorry Hermione."

Their Keeper was immediately shaking her head. "No, Sirius. Anyone who went through what you went through would have suffered from doubts."

"What do you mean?" Orion asked. Worry for his son was evident in his face and his tone.

Hermione turned toward Orion and bit her lip. She glanced at Sirius and then stared at her plate, obviously reluctant to speak of it whatever it was. A sense of uneasiness spread through Regulus. What had happened to his brother after his death that upset their Keeper so much?

"It's a long story Father." Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"James and Lily Potter were murdered," Cygnus spoke up. He glanced down the table at his nephew. "Sirius was charged with the murder and thrown in Azkaban."

Regulus stared at his brother. "No," he protested. Regulus _knew_ how much Sirius had loved Potter. He had burned with jealousy for years because Potter had taken his place as Sirius' brother. It just wasn't possible. Sirius would die first before he would let anything happen to Potter.

"Of course he didn't!" Their Keeper snapped. Righteous indignation shone in her eyes. Her lips twisted with distaste. "It was Pettigrew."

"Tell me he died," Sirius demanded.

Their Keeper paled. "He did," she whispered.

An awkward silence stretched between them until they heard the sound of the Floo activating. Then there was a loud crashing noise, and their Keeper sighed and rolled her eyes heavenwards.

Suddenly, Regulus heard his mother screaming at the top of her lungs. "Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!"

"Mother?" Regulus sputtered.

Orion turned to their Keeper with an expression of absolute horror. "Walburga is still alive?"

"Not exactly," she muttered.

There was another loud crash. Their Keeper rose with a sigh and moved toward the hall. All of them stood automatically when she did and they followed her out into the hall. A slender witch was wrestling with an umbrella stand that caught on her robes and cursing under her breath. There was a portrait of Mother on the wall, and it was from there that all of the screaming issued. As soon as Mother's portrait caught sight of Hermione her eyes widened and she began to froth at the mouth.

"Mudblood scum!" She shrieked. "How dare you defile the house of my fathers!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus saw his father's face grow purple in rage. He could feel a similar rage rising in his own chest. That anyone would insult their Keeper infuriated him—that it was a member of his House made it ten times worse. Father reached into his robes for his wand and fired several hexes at her portrait. She began to screech in rage, but one of his hexes did something and she was cut off mid-rant.

"Sorry about that Hermione," the witch apologized as she tugged at her robes. "You'll have to show me that hex it works better than anything else we've tried."

"Who are you?" Orion demanded. He was already upset that his late wife had insulted their Keeper, and now there were strange people Flooing in at all hours of the day and night. He had warded this house with every safety measure he could think of—how was it that unknown witches could still get in?

The strange witch froze and stared at all of them. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in surprise. She turned to their Keeper and gestured at them mutely. "You," she finally managed to get out. She swallowed and tried again. "You did it?"

Their Keeper blushed and nodded.

"How have you been, Dora?" Sirius asked with a grin.

"Sirius!" The witch seemed happy to see him and she hurried to hug him.

Regulus frowned at the familiarity of the strange witch. Sirius belonged to their Keeper now just as the rest of them did. He turned to their Keeper, but she was smiling widely at the scene in front of her. Orion and Cygnus appeared to be just as confused as he was.

"Oh!" The strange witch exclaimed. "I'd better go get Mother. She'll never forgive me if I don't."

"You might as well bring everyone," their Keeper told the witch.

"I'll be right back," she said with a nod and ducked back into the Floo.

"Hermione? What's all the noise… Sirius?" A slender-looking man stood on the stairs wearing only a pair of Muggle sleeping pants. Regulus would recognize that wild black hair anywhere. The man raced down the stairs and flung himself at Regulus' brother.

"Harry," Sirius choked out and he was hugging the man back.

Regulus frowned at Sirius and then turned to their Keeper. He realized that Orion and Cygnus had done the same thing and all three of them were now scowling at their Keeper.

"Harry is Sirius' godson," she told them quietly. The three wizards nodded. That made sense to them. Harry's strong physical resemblance to the Potter scion was lost on none of them. She smiled then. "That's how Andromeda and Tonks figured out that I was your Keeper."

Sirius was shaking his head, one arm around Harry's shoulders. "I was an idiot, Hermione. I should have realized."

Hermione shrugged. "I had no idea until after you had passed through the Veil."

The Floo activated again and several people came through in rapid succession. Cygnus, Orion, and Regulus automatically moved closer to their Keeper and ranged themselves around her protectively.

"Father!"

Cygnus started slightly and then looked at the group of people who had come through the Floo. "Andromeda? Narcissa?"

The two sisters hugged their father exuberantly and he hugged them back. Andromeda introduced the witch from earlier as her daughter, Dora. Then Dora introduced her husband and son.

"Husband?" Sirius appeared stunned. "Moony you married Dora?"

The husband blushed a dark red. "Are you mad?" He asked quietly.

Regulus frowned. The husband looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place him.

"No, just surprised," Sirius admitted.

The rest of the morning quickly devolved into loud, boisterous chatter as Sirius spoke with Harry, Dora, and her husband. Cygnus was trying to listen to both of his daughters patiently while they tried to catch him up on everything that had happened since his death. Orion had sidled next to Cygnus and was listening intently as Narcissa began to explain some law that the Wizengamot had passed. Regulus moved to stand near their Keeper. She was watching everything with a small smile, but she wasn't a part of either group.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He asked.

She nodded. "Oh yes. They all seem very happy, don't they?"

"All because of you, my Lady," he reminded her.

She looked up at him then, and blushed again. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Shall we sit?" He asked.

A quick glance around the room brought a small frown to her lips. "It's a bit crowded. I suppose I could transfigure that wingback into a settee."

Regulus quashed the urge to offer his lap as a resting place. He had a feeling that their Keeper wasn't ready for those sorts of flirtations… yet.


	4. The Keeper's Stone

_**A/N: **__The outpouring of love for this fic has been absolutely amazing. I can only thank Mistra Rose for being fabulous enough to think of it, and being patient enough to let me question her endlessly while I figured out how to make this whole thing work. _

_Ah, you all know me too well. I do usually have a few teeny, weeny tricks up my sleeve. :wink wink nudge nudge:_

_/\/\/\/\_

"_Once the Keeper Calls back Her wizards they can work to Restore their House. The Book of Records, which is now kept at the Ministry of Magic, will automatically record the bonding of the wizards to their Keeper."_

The kitchen at Grimmauld Place was much fuller than it had been in a long, long time. Kreacher was flitting around humming happily to himself, making sure that all of his 'young Masters' had plenty to eat and drink.

"So... are you lot going to move in here then?" Harry asked.

Orion grimaced. "This was Walburga's house," he replied. "I have never cared for this place, and it holds bad memories for me."

"You're not the only one, Father," Sirius added from his place next to Harry

"We'll need to reopen Black Manor anyway." Orion eyed Harry with a grave expression. "I know that you have inherited this house through Sirius and we will not contest your claim."

"It's your house Harry." Sirius clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"The Manor has been closed for years, Uncle," Narcissa spoke up from her place next to her father.

Orion smiled a rather grim smile. "That's fine, Cissy. I plan on gutting the Manor and completely redoing everything." He sent a warm glance Hermione's way. "Thanks to our Keeper, our House had been given a second chance, and I fully intend to make sure that her efforts are not in vain."

"We will need to go to Diagon Alley," Cygnus pointed out.

"You'll have to go to the Ministry of Magic as well," Andromeda murmured.

"Are you free tomorrow, my Lady?" Orion asked politely.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, of course."

The meal continued with light, happy chatter, but Hermione noticed Orion quietly excused himself and left the table. She listened politely to the conversation flowing around her, but her mind kept wandering to her missing wizard. Eventually she slipped away from the table and went to check on him. The library was empty, so were the small parlours on that floor. Hermione finally wandered out into the small courtyard that was behind the house to find Orion standing near a small bench.

"Orion?" Hermione called softly.

"I'm the Patriarch," Orion observed.

Intuitively, Hermione knew what he was saying. Arcturus had been the previous Patriarch, and everyone agreed that he was a horrible excuse for a wizard. He had driven his House into the ground, and hadn't seemed to care that he was doing so. He had wilfully destroyed Cygnus' and Orion's personal lives for his own ends. He was also Orion's father. She couldn't even imagine how painful that must be for him. She moved closer to Orion, and put a hand on his arm.

"You will be a wonderful Patriarch," she told him firmly. "You will restore your House and make it great again."

He turned to her, and his eyes searched her face. The intensity of his gaze made a pool of heat spread in her belly. "Will you help me, my Lady? Help me to be a good Patriarch... help me to make the House of Black everything it once was."

"Yes," she whispered. She stared up at him, and watched as warmth and affection flashed in his eyes. He cupped her face in his hands.

"So brave," he murmured and he gave her a small half-smile. "My warrior Keeper," he teased gently. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

Hermione stared up at him with wide eyes. She'd been kissed more than once, but none of them had ever been so gentle and tender. Her lips tingled and heat spread throughout her body. Orion's face was only inches from hers and his large, warm hands were still cupping her face. His eyes darkened and his pupils dilated. He closed his eyes and groaned.

"You should go back in, my Lady," he muttered.

Hermione frowned. She didn't want to go back in. She wanted to stand in the cool courtyard with Orion's hands cupping her face. "Why?"

A laugh escaped Orion's lips. He pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead. "We will have time later to trade kisses and learn more about one another. Now we must re-join your other wizards so that they don't worry about you."

A blush spread over Hermione's cheeks and Orion emitted another soft laugh. At that moment Hermione decided that she wanted to Orion's laugh more often. With a reluctant sigh, Orion released her face. He held out his arm to her and she slipped her arm through his without even thinking about it. He guided her gently back into the house and moved toward the library. No one else was there at that moment, and Orion seated her as though she were some sort of princess.

"We will have to stay here for tonight," Orion stated with a small sigh. "Tomorrow we can reopen Black Manor, go to the Ministry and stop by Diagon Alley. I'll need to have robes made for the Wizengamot, and we'll have to have robes made for you as well."

"Robes for me?" Hermione shot a startled glance at Orion.

"You are the Keeper for the House of Black," Orion reminded her. "Every time you are in public you will be scrutinized. How you appear will reflect directly on my House and how well we have taken care of you."

"Do I have to go to the Wizengamot as well?" She asked curiously.

"You will have to appear before the Wizengamot as our Keeper, and it will be your job to present us to the assembled body. In addition, if I am ever ill or unwell you might be called to sit on the Wizengamot in my place," Orion explained.

"Wouldn't Sirius sit in for you, as your heir?" Hermione wondered.

Orion nodded. "Of course, but if Sirius and I are unable to attend, you can do so in our place."

Voices grew louder and Orion and Hermione turned expectantly toward the door. The large group poured into the library, but Hermione noticed that the eyes of the Black wizards were drawn to her almost immediately. It was a strange sensation, to be the direct focus of four wizards, but Hermione was struggling to deal with it. She had understood the consequences of being the Keeper for the House of Black-Mrs Longbottom and Neville had made it quite clear that they would be bound to her... that she was, for all intents and purposes, their wife. She was fairly certain that part hadn't quite sunk in yet, but she acknowledged it. There had been no time for them to get to know one another, but that did not surprise her at all. They had come back through the Veil, and they had family obligations in addition to their obligations to Hermione.

The long, exhausting day finally caught up with Hermione and she tried to hide a yawn behind her hand, but she was unsuccessful.

"My Lady we are so sorry," Regulus said immediately. "You have had no rest since you Called us."

"It's all right," Hermione protested.

"Nonsense," Orion retorted. "You will have a full day tomorrow. We should all get some sleep."

"Unfortunately, Father is right," Sirius agreed with a sigh.

Hermione stood, and all of the Black wizards rose with her. She blinked at all of them and blushed. "Um, good night?"

Sirius smirked at her. "We're being polite, poppet. Don't worry, you're safe for tonight." Then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek.

Her blush grew even deeper as each of her wizards gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek.

/\/\/\/\

A scream woke Cygnus immediately. He jerked upright and fumbled for his wand on the night stand. Another terrified scream rent the air and Cygnus realized with mounting horror that it was their Keeper who was being threatened. He grabbed his wand and ran out into the hall. He blinked in surprise when he realized that Orion, Sirius and Regulus had all shared his reaction to hearing their Keeper in distress. They looked at one another in confusion and then turned their heads, trying to determine where their Keeper's room was. A door at the end of the hall slammed against the wall, and the Potter scion burst out into the hallway. He ignored all of them and barrelled down the hall with focused purpose.

"It's not real! It's a fake; I swear it's a fake!"

They all glanced at one another again and raced to the same door that Potter had entered. Cygnus ignored the fact that Potter was once again shirtless and had _their _Keeper in his lap. Instead he focused on Potter's worried face and the way he was trying to soothe their Keeper.

"Hermione, you're not there," he was telling her urgently. "C'mon sweetheart, you're not there. You're safe. You're here with me."

Worry drove Cygnus forward. He knelt in front of their Keeper and gently stroked her bare shoulder. He could feel Orion, Sirius and Regulus around him. He saw Sirius frown out of the corner of his eye. Regulus stroked her hair with the tips of her fingers. Sweat was beaded on her brow, and she shuddered in Potter's arms. Her eyelids fluttered and she blinked slowly up at Potter.

"Harry?" She whispered.

He grinned at her. "Me and a few others," he told her gently.

She shifted in his arms, and Cygnus-perhaps because he was so much closer to her than the others-noticed something on her arm that drew his attention. He reached out and carefully took her left arm, gently turning it over so that he could look at her inner forearm. 'Mudblood' was _carved _into their Keeper's flesh. His stomach dropped and he felt bile rise in his throat.

"Hermione, who did this?" Sirius asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

The Black family was filled with volatile, emotional witches and wizards who took pride in their passion for life. Yelling, screaming and cursing were normal modes of expression for all of them, but when a Black was quiet he or she became infinitely more dangerous. Cygnus knew that Sirius was brutally leashing his rage because whoever had hurt their Keeper was going to suffer in ways that hadn't even been invented yet. He knew because he himself was suffering from the same overwhelming fury, but he didn't want to frighten their Keeper.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered

"The hell it doesn't!" Sirius burst out.

Their Keeper's large whiskey-coloured eyes turned to him, and Cygnus stared back at her. "It really doesn't matter," she said firmly. Then she reached out and stroked Cygnus' cheek-as though she were trying to comfort him. "Dora and Narcissa protected me. They killed the person that did it."

Nausea swept over Cygnus. "Bellatrix did this." It was a statement, not a question, but it was the only thing that made sense. Why else would their Keeper care so much about _his_ reaction, but not Orion's or Sirius' or Regulus'?

"No," Orion breathed in a horrified whisper. He reached out and took her other hand. "Please, my Lady, tell me that no one from my House would _dare_," his voice cracked and he couldn't even finish the sentence.

"You're sure she's dead?" Sirius demanded.

Their Keeper grimaced slightly. "Very much so. Dora and Narcissa accidentally crossed curses and she sort of... exploded. Narcissa complained that it took her days to get blood traitor out of her hair."

"Good," Regulus muttered with dark satisfaction. He flushed when their Keeper stared at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry, poppet," Sirius apologized with a slight smile for his brother. "You're going to have to get used to us at some point. We're a bunch of possessive bastards, and the idea that _anyone_ hurt you... let alone family... I still want to hex things."

"If you would be so good as to release our witch," Orion asked Potter in a slightly chilly voice.

Harry stared coldly at Orion. "She can sit where she chooses," he snapped.

Their Keeper shifted uncomfortably and blushed. "Harry," she chided.

"Sorry, Hermione," he mumbled.

"My Lady, please," Orion murmured. He looked uncomfortable.

Their Keeper sighed and moved off of Potter's lap. She surprised everyone, including Cygnus, when she plopped herself in his lap. Cygnus realized with a dawning sense of horror that their Keeper was wearing only a tiny pair of shorts and some sort of undergarment that barely covered her torso, and clung to every curve. She slipped her arms about his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It really is all right," she murmured against the skin of his neck.

Without even thinking about it Cygnus slipped his arms about her and pulled her against his chest. "You need to get some sleep," he whispered into her hair.

"Just hold me for a little while," Hermione mumbled.

Potter stood and Orion, Sirius and Regulus frowned at the expanse of naked chest on display. "Good night, Hermione," he told their Keeper.

Their Keeper yawned. "Night, Harry."

Cygnus went to stand and put their Keeper back in her bed, but her arms tightened around his neck and she mumbled something unintelligible. "You need your sleep, my Lady," he said firmly.

"Will you stay here until I fall asleep?" She asked in sleep-slurred voice.

"Of course," Orion answered for all of them.

The four of them got her settled back into her bed and tucked in. Cygnus sat by her bed and stroked her hair. "Dream of us," he encouraged her. "Then if you do have bad dreams, we can chase whatever it is away."

"Dream of you," she mumbled, and her eyelids drifted shut. Soon her deep even breathing was the only sound in the room.

"We should probably go to sleep as well," Orion reminded them.

Regulus looked up from his spot near her feet. "What if she has another nightmare?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine for tonight," Orion replied firmly. "She knows we're here and that we would never let anyone hurt her."

"I suppose so," Regulus murmured reluctantly.

"It'll be fine, Reggie." Sirius had a solemn expression that looked quite out of place on his normally cheerful face.

It was with great reluctance that they left their Keeper to her dreams. Cygnus was the last out the door. He took one last glance at her sleeping form. "Sweet dreams," he whispered before he shut the door behind him.

/\/\/\/\

Being a Keeper, even being a Grove-born Witch, hadn't meant anything to Hermione in the beginning. At first, Hermione hadn't really understood how any of it impacted her. Once she understood what being a Keeper meant; the enormity of it still hadn't sunk in. Her focus had been the stories of each of the Black wizards. Her heart had gone out to each of them-each wizard had been hurt by his House in a different way, and she had ached for each of them. Eventually, she had become obsessed with giving these wizards a second chance. Now they had that second chance, and Hermione basically had four husbands.

Hermione would be lying if she said that whole idea of _four husbands_ didn't disturb her a little. The Muggle world had nothing even close to something like that, but so far they had been kind to her. She wasn't certain how it would all work, exactly, but she trusted her wizards.

When she woke up in the morning Hermione felt safe and secure. She dressed quickly, and hurried downstairs to find Harry eating a huge plate of breakfast. She sat down and Kreacher automatically placed tea and toast in front of her.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry snorted. "Where's your harem of wizards, you mean?" He teased her.

Hermione blushed furiously. "They're not a harem," she protested. Images of all four wizards wearing ridiculous genie costumes flitted through her head and her blush turned even darker. "They're not!"

Harry watched her with a serious expression. "Hermione, you know that I don't care, right? I was only ever worried about _you_, but these wizards-they treat you like you're the most precious thing in the world. If all of them treated you like those four... you could have a hundred husbands and I wouldn't care."

"A hundred husbands?" Hermione choked on her tea. Suddenly four seemed like an entirely reasonable number.

"They went to open Black Manor," Harry explained in between bites.

"Without me?" It was ridiculous that she felt so bereft. She had known all of them, with the exception of Sirius, for barely a day. She shouldn't feel this attached to them, and yet she did. Perhaps it was because she had been so focused on them for months.

Harry ducked his head and refused to look at her. "They, uh, they were worried that it would be dangerous for you. Orion and Cygnus thought that Arcturus may have left some nasty booby-traps. I, um, I agreed with them."

"You agreed with them?" Hermione's voice rose shrilly. "You _agreed_ with them?"

"They know all kinds of Dark spells," Harry defended himself. "There might be stuff that we've never even seen before."

"But-," Hermione protested.

"I know you're brassed off at me, Hermione," Harry interrupted her. The resolve and determination on his face reminded her of the Horcrux hunt.

Her lips pressed together into a thin line. "This isn't over," she muttered into her tea.

Harry snorted. "I didn't think it would be. I almost feel sorry for them," he added under his breath.

"I heard that!" Hermione glared at him across the table.

Harry just grinned at her and dug into his sausage. _Wizards._ She wanted to throttle the lot of them. She finished her tea and toast, and wandered into the library. She was too irritated to just sit and read. After several minutes of pacing she huffed to herself and marched off to the Floo. At that moment the Floo flared green and Sirius stepped out. He eyed her surprised expression and frowned.

"Going somewhere, Hermione?" He asked softly.

She flushed with embarrassment at being caught, and then she glared at him. "Don't you dare act like I'm the one in trouble, Sirius Black!" She poked him the chest with her index finger. Sirius' hand shot out and grabbed her finger. His gaze was dark and intense and Hermione scowled up at him.

"I knew you wouldn't just sit here and wait for us." He was still speaking softly, but his hand was stroking her fingers gently. He smiled at down at her. "You've always reminded me a bit of Lily-wickedly smart, feisty, brave, and compassionate."

Hermione stared up at him. "Are you trying to _flirt _with me? By comparing me to your best friend's wife?"

A dull flush crept up Sirius' cheeks. "No, of course not," he muttered.

"I am not happy with any of you," Hermione continued. When he laughed at her, she scowled up at him.

"Sweetheart, we don't give a shit if you hate us, as long as you're safe," he informed her coolly. Pain flickered in his eyes briefly. "As long as you're safe," he whispered almost to himself.

As the last Black left standing, Sirius had lost _everyone_: his family and his friends. He had even failed his oaths to James and Lily. Hermione had never considered all of that from his perspective before, but his reaction made her do just that. She moved closer to him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"I don't hate you," she said with a sigh. "I just don't like having decisions like this made for me."

"Would you have agreed to stay here where it was safe?" Sirius cocked his head to the side curiously.

"No, of course not!" Hermione burst out.

A brief smile twisted his lips. "Even though they have just met you, they understood that about you. I didn't even have to tattle on you."

"So they snuck out, and convinced Harry to cover for them?" Hermione huffed indignantly.

Sirius chuckled at her and shook his head. "You do realize that you've managed to bind yourself to three Slytherins, right?"

"And one Gryffindor who is currently pushing his luck," Hermione growled up at him.

In one instant, everything changed. Sirius' eyes darkened and his pupils dilated. A slow, wicked smirk curved his lips and he leaned down until his face was inches from hers. "I'm always pushing my luck, sweetheart," he purred at her. Then he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. It was a brief kiss, but it still made her senses swim. He pulled back and then pressed a kiss to her nose.

"I'm still mad," Hermione muttered darkly.

Sirius smirked at her. "You're cute when you're mad," he informed her.

By the time the other wizards returned, Hermione had calmed down... slightly. Her wizards tried to greet her, but she responded coolly. They then turned to Sirius who shrugged.

"Are you ready to shop, my Lady?" Orion asked cautiously.

Hermione frowned. "Aren't we going to the Ministry?"

"Of course," the wizards chorused.

"What am I missing?" She asked suspiciously.

All four wizards smirked at her. It was extremely unsettling.

"I told you she was a clever witch," Regulus told them proudly.

"You did," Orion agreed with a fond smile for his son.

"The Ministry is a bureaucratic machine," Cygnus explained. "Many of the wizards and witches that work there, especially in the higher positions, are older and more staid. They will form assumptions based upon our appearance, and upon our interactions with one another."

"So shopping is a strategy?" Hermione guessed.

"Very much so, my Lady." Orion gave her an approving look.

Hermione sighed. "Then let's go shopping."

/\/\/\/\

Diagon Alley was in the middle of reconstruction, but it still teemed with people. The four Black wizards ranged themselves around Hermione in a protective formation and made their way carefully toward Twilfitt and Tatting's. Sirius was very aware of the curious stares and the slight frowns that they received, and he schooled his face to an impassive mask. Hermione unconsciously edged closer to the nearest wizard, who happened to be him and he knew that she was conscious of the attention as well.

Inside Twilfitt and Tatting's it was better because the store was completely empty, which allowed all of them to breathe comfortably. Agatha Tatting, who was 116 if she was a day tottered out from the back and froze. She had measured and dressed each and every one of them from the time they could toddle. Sirius was sure that she still had their measurements somewhere. That was the sort of dedication and quality that Twilfitt and Tatting's offered, and it was the reason that the Blacks dealt exclusively with them. Agatha's sharp eyes spotted the slender figure standing within the protective circle of Black wizards and understanding filled her eyes.

"Good morning," she stated calmly. She gave a small bow in Hermione's direction. "It is an honour to have you in my shop, Keeper Black. How can I help you?"

"Good morning Agatha," Orion replied and made his own little bow. "We need formal House robes, Wizengamot robes, and a set of Keeper's robes."

Agatha's hands seemed to flutter for a moment. "I've never made Keeper's robes. We have drawings, of course. Twilfitt and Tatting's dressed the Longbottom Keeper," she added with obvious pride.

"I'm sure that I'm in capable hands," Hermione replied with a slight smile.

Orion and Cygnus reluctantly shifted so that Hermione could move forward, and Agatha began measuring her immediately. She murmured under her breath through most of the process, but Sirius knew that she never forgot anything. Agatha Tatting's memory was prodigious.

"You'll want them done today, I suppose?" Agatha turned to Orion and peered at him over her spectacles.

"We've just been Called," Orion explained. "We have to go to the Ministry so that our Keeper can do the formal presentation."

"Ah." Agatha nodded wisely. "You'll definitely want them done today then. I suppose you'll just wait here?" She glanced over to Hermione and then looked back at Orion with a smirk. "Best to have your Keeper dressed appropriately as soon as possible?"

"As always, Miss Agatha, you know our needs perfectly," Orion retorted drily.

Agatha cackled and went back to measuring Hermione. Finally, she was done and she bustled off into the back of the shop, still murmuring under her breath.

Hermione turned her head to frown at Orion. "What is she talking about?"

"The room that the Wizengamot meets in is ancient." Orion paused and Sirius could tell that he was trying to think of the best way to explain everything so that Hermione would understand. "There are several artefacts that belong to the Wizengamot, and by extension British wizarding culture as a whole. There is one that has always been called 'the Keeper's Stone'. You must stand on that stone and present us to the assembled Wizengamot."

"I read that," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. "But why?"

"Usually fallen Houses fell for a reason," Cygnus explained after a brief glance at Orion. "Even among the four of us Regulus is a marked Death Eater and Sirius is wanted for murder. It would be possible to bring them back from the dead through the Dark Arts. The fact that you are a Keeper means that Regulus and Sirius are innocent. They would have to be, or you wouldn't have been able to Call them."

"So even if someone asked for a Keeper they might not be Called?" Hermione pressed.

"If they were irredeemable, no they would not," Orion stated firmly. He frowned slightly then, and shrugged. "Although I find it hard to believe that someone that lost to decency would even think to ask for a Keeper."

"How do you know so much about Keepers?" Hermione demanded.

"The library at Black Manor is one of the most extensive in all of wizarding Britain," Cygnus explained.

Sirius snorted in amusement. "Now you've done it, Cousin. She'll want to go there straightaway and never leave." He winked at her to let her know that he was teasing.

Hermione pouted at Sirius. "I would not. We need to make sure everything is cleared up with the Ministry first." She turned to Orion with worry shining in her cinnamon brown eyes. "We can do that today, can't we?"

"Of course, my Lady," Orion assured her. He sent a significant glance toward Sirius.

The Aurors _probably_ wouldn't arrest Sirius or Regulus, but it wouldn't be smart to bet on it. It would be much smarter for them and for the House if they were cleared legally. Certainly, it would upset Hermione if either one of them were arrested. Sirius had noticed the way she had already taken to his little brother, and Regulus definitely returned her regard. If this were any other situation Sirius would be wildly jealous of his little brother, but oddly enough he wasn't. He wasn't sure if it was because Hermione was their Keeper, and Hermione's Call had bound them all to her, but he wasn't jealous of any of them. _Well, not wildly jealous anyway. _He smirked back at his father as he thought about the looks on their faces when they realized that he had an advantage over them with their Keeper.

"Ah, Madam Malkin's going to have kittens when she finds out I've crafted the Keeper's robes," Agatha cackled as she hurried out of the back with fabric spilling over her arms.

Cygnus sniffed imperiously. "As if we would go to Malkin's."

"All of your Keeper's robes have been made there," Agatha pointed out. She gave a sly grin to Hermione. "Not that I blame your Keeper. She was young, and Malkin caters to the younger crowd."

"A Tatting has been making robes for the House of Black since 1359," Orion murmured as he watched Agatha holding different fabrics against Hermione's skin. "We aren't going to change now. When it comes to ceremonial robes no one does better than Twilfitt & Tatting."

"True," Agatha agreed breezily.

The richness of Acromantula silk against Hermione's colouring was striking. Sirius admired the way the silk made her skin glow and her hair shine. Hermione was going to be a commanding-looking witch when Agatha Tatting was through with her.

"If you gentlemen could please turn your backs," Agatha commanded.

All four wizards pivoted on their heels and clasped their hands behind their backs.

"Can't they just leave?" Hermione asked plaintively.

Agatha snorted in amusement. "My dear Keeper, you don't know your wizards all that well, do you? These are _Blacks_, dearie. If these were Malfoys or Selwyns... or even Bones you might get them to leave you unattended, but never a Black."

"We guard that which belongs to our House," Orion tossed over his shoulder.

"Very well," she huffed.

The soft slide of a jumper being slid over someone's head-Sirius had heard the sound so many times he had it memorized-made him aware of how few clothes Hermione was about to be wearing. The snick of her zipper came next and Sirius tried to remember Arithmancy formula tables. Desperately, he concentrated on Fawley's equation, but the vision of Hermione clad only in a bra and knickers kept intruding.

"You poor dear," Agatha gasped at one point. "Who would dare to harm a Keeper?"

Sirius clenched his jaw in rage. The thought of what _that woman_ had done to their Keeper made him want to punch things.

"Oh," Hermione murmured. "That was Dolohov."

"WHAT!"

All four wizards whirled around immediately and glared at their Keeper. She squeaked and tried to hide behind Agatha. It hadn't been quick enough though. Sirius had seen the thick white scars on her sternum.

"How," he bit out between clenched teeth.

Hermione was peering at him over Agatha's shoulder. "The Department of Mysteries," she whispered.

Sirius closed his eyes. Of course, it had to have been _that night_. Not only had he failed his godson, he'd failed his Keeper. Merlin's balls, was he a fuck up at everything? He'd been a crap godfather, and now he was pants at taking care of his Keeper. A small body collided with his, and little hands were patting at his cheeks.

"It wasn't your fault," Hermione told him urgently. "Harry wouldn't listen to anyone that night-he was so sure that you were being hurt-and I... I couldn't bear the thought that you were being tortured by Voldemort so I went with him."

"I swear to you all that Twilfitt & Tatting will never serve another Dolohov in our establishment," Agatha vowed in a shaky voice.

"Oh, that's not necessary," Hermione sputtered.

Agatha Tatting drew herself up and fixed a stern gaze on Hermione. "I assure you, Keeper Black, that I take the future of my House very seriously."

"Oh." Hermione appeared shocked.

"It isn't exactly a law, but no decent witch or wizard would ever dream of harming a Keeper," Orion explained gently. He rubbed his temple slightly. "It's rather that they worry that a Keeper might refuse to help their House if they were to hurt a Keeper."

"Oh," Hermione said again. She seemed genuinely shake so Sirius attempted to rub her back soothingly. That only reminded him that she was basically naked in his arms.

Sirius stepped back carefully. He frowned down at Hermione. "You don't have any more grievous injuries we need to know about do you?" He demanded.

"No." Hermione shook her head and looked up at them with wide eyes.

"Very well, let's get this finished so that we can do the presentation," Orion muttered. "The sooner we're reinstated the sooner we can make sure that everyone knows that you are under our protection."

Several hours later, Hermione was resplendently dressed in costly Acromantula silk. Her robes were traditional Keeper's robes, which no one had personally seen in centuries. There was a form-fitting, long-sleeved under-robe in emerald green. Around her wrists, neckline, and hemline were embroidered traditional patterns that were reserved for Keepers. Over that was the ceremonial over-robe which fell to mid-calf to show off her under-robe. Over her chest there was a plaquet embroidered with the Black family shield.

The sight of Hermione richly robed as their Keeper made Sirius' heart swell in his chest. Years before he had only seen her as a child-his godson's best friend-but now... now it was more than obvious that Hermione had become a woman, and dressed in the robes of his House with his family's shield on her plaquet? It took everything in him not to pull her into his arms and kiss the breath out of her. Judging by the dark look in the other wizards' eyes, they felt the same.

"There," Agatha said in satisfaction. She looked over the Black wizards who were all wearing their ceremonial robes and smirked at the looks on their faces. In no time at all she would be making tiny robes for Naming ceremonies.

"Let's go," Orion told all of them.

If they had drawn attention before, they stopped traffic in the street now. People gawked at them as they moved toward the Ministry. Sirius held himself proudly with his shoulders thrown back and his head held high. He scanned their surroundings constantly just as the others were doing. He made certain that he stayed properly ranged from all of the others so that Hermione was protected at all times.

Entering the Ministry caused a stir, but Sirius expected nothing less. Orion had swept toward the elevators and the rest of them followed.

"Don't we have to check in?" Hermione asked curiously.

"We aren't visitors," Orion sniffed.

The Wizengamot was in full session when they arrived, and the poor interns guarding the door almost wet themselves when they saw Hermione sweeping toward them surrounded by four intimidating wizards. Sirius smirked to himself.

"Keeper for the House of Black requesting admittance to the Wizengamot," she called out just as Orion and Cygnus had coached her.

The interns' hands shook as they opened the doors to admit Hermione. They bowed as she moved passed them into the room her head held high. Orion and Cygnus had described the main Assembly room of the Wizengamot to her in detail while Agatha was busy creating her robes. She turned as soon as she was in the room and marched over to the Keeper's Stone with the four of them trailing after her.

Murmurs and whispers buzzed through the Wizengamot, but once Hermione stepped onto the Stone the room went entirely silent. The Stone began to glow letting everyone know that a true Keeper was standing on it. A collective gasp of awe went through the room.

"I am the Keeper for the House of Black," Hermione announced in ringing tones, and the glow of the stone increased. "I have Called back the wizards of the House of Black and I present them to you now. Orion, son of Arcturus and Melania, Cygnus, son of Pollux and Irma, Sirius, son of Orion and Walburga, Regulus, son of Orion and Walburga."

As she called each wizard he came forward and stood in front of her.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, head of the Wizengamot, rose to his feet unsteadily. "We hear and recognize the Keeper for the House of Black. Your wizards have been recorded and are reinstated."

"These are men of honour," Hermione continued, and her voice echoed in the room. "They have been weighed, and measured, and found worthy." The glow grew even brighter.

"We hear and recognize, Keeper Black," Kingsley replied formally and bowed deeply.

There was very little left to the formal ceremony. Kingsley called for a vote from the Wizengamot, but it was unanimous. A vote on a Keeper's presentation was always unanimous. The Keeper's Stone was one of the sacred artefacts of wizarding Britain and it couldn't lie. Once the brief, impromptu ceremony was concluded they swept out again with Hermione leading the way. Orion had firmly impressed upon her the need to not hang about. They didn't want to deal with sycophants and hangers on; they wanted to whisk their little witch off to Black Manor to get to know her better.

Sirius, for one, couldn't wait.


	5. A True Mistress

_A/N: My poor darlings. I am neither dead nor have I abandoned this story. I went to a Stargate convention in Chicago and basked in the glory of Jason Momoa. (I also prevented my friend Zuzu from being thrown in jail for licking his abs.) I got to hang out with Alex Zahara and Dan Payne who were the sweetest, nicest men. _

_So… this chapter. I know you are all expecting the sexy times complete with throbbing, tumescent members, etc. Oops? _

_I spent a good two weeks struggling with angst and heartbreak over House Elves. You may be confused by that, but it would NOT leave me alone. Auntie L let me whine at her about my worries and concerns. She also helped me figure out what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. Thank Merlin that amazing people like her are a part of our fandom. :D _

_As always, a thank you to Mistra Rose for the idea._

_Also a huge thank you to my Falcons. They've been so supportive of this story. I love you guys so much! _

_There *is* an actual plot coming, but I'm building it slowly. Be patient with me, please. _

_/\/\/\/\_

_Ministry of Magic, November 2, 1998_

With all great speed the Black wizards filed out of the greater assembly room, and walked briskly toward the exit. Hermione was shepherded along between them, but she had to hurry to keep up with them.

"Keeper Black, if I might have a word?" A voice called hesitantly.

Hermione turned about to see a lower level Ministry employee twisting her robes in her fingers. "Penelope Clearwater?" She was surprised to see Percy's ex-girlfriend.

"Yes, if I could have a word?" Penelope tried again. She glanced over her shoulder towards the Wizengamot chambers and then gave them a weak smile.

"My lady we should leave before the media arrives," Cygnus murmured.

"Hang on." Hermione raised a hand to the Black wizards and turned back to Penelope. "Do you have an office that we could speak in privately?"

"Sort of." Penelope's fingers twisted even more tightly in her robe. "Erm, follow me."

Quickly, Penelope hurried down the twisting hallways of the Ministry with Hermione jogging to keep up with her. The Black wizards, left with no other choice, chased after her down the halls. They finally reached a small, cramped office and all six of them wedged themselves in carefully.

"What's this about Penelope?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I work with the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Penelope began. She shuffled papers on her desk and then looked up at Hermione. "I'm in the House Elf Division."

"I'm not sure I understand," Hermione replied with a small frown.

"They have asked me to speak to you, on their behalf," Penelope explained.

"The House Elves have?" Regulus' voice rose in surprise. He flushed when everyone looked at him. "I'm sorry; it's just that they don't usually choose a wizarding representative."

"It's only in this one particular matter," Penelope clarified.

"What matter?" Orion demanded with a frown.

"Keeper Black," Penelope replied.

"Now I am positive that I don't understand," Hermione murmured.

"I believe it had to do with a club you attempted to start at Hogwarts." Penelope shuffled her paperwork again. "Ah, yes, spew?"

"It's S.P.E.W.," Hermione huffed indignantly. "The Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare."

"They claim that you attempted to break the bonds of the House Elves of Hogwarts," Penelope read off the report in her hands. "Also, you refused to learn anything about their culture or customs, and instead tried to force wizarding and Muggle customs and culture upon them against their will."

"I _what_?" Shock coursed through Hermione. She had wanted to help-that was all that she had ever wanted to do. "I never wanted to hurt anyone. I was just trying to help."

"Our Keeper couldn't possibly have broken their bonds as she was not one of the bondholders," Orion protested.

"I couldn't?" Disappointment welled in Hermione at the thought of all of the knitting she had done her third year.

"You mean to say you _tried_?" Regulus couldn't keep the horror from his voice. "Don't you know what that would do to a House Elf?"

"Dobby was fine," Hermione protested weakly, but a niggling sense of doubt and fear started to make her uneasy.

"Dobby was bound to Hogwarts," Sirius interjected. "I don't think Harry realized that's what Dobby did, but it's the only way Dobby could have survived having his bond severed with the Malfoys."

"But he kept saying that he was a Free Elf." Hermione was so confused.

"A Free Elf is not bound to a particular family," Penelope offered. "Hogwarts is an alternative for House Elves that would rather not be bound to a specific bloodline."

"What about the wilful refusal to learn about House Elves," Hermione asked with a worried frown. "I tried to find every book I could in the library on House Elves. There was almost nothing."

"Did you ever attempt to talk to the House Elves themselves? Did you try to ask them if they were happy? How the bond worked? Did you ask them what they wanted out of the bond? Did you ask them anything?" At the look of discomfited embarrassment on Hermione's face Penelope sighed. "Did you try the books written in their own language?" Penelope demanded at last.

"Their own language?" Hermione looked from Penelope to her wizards.

"Of course," Cygnus added with an air of surprise. "The House Elves have their own language, culture, history... just like any other people."

"But... why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Hermione protested.

"Would you have listened?" Sirius asked pointedly. He shot her a gentle smile. "You forget, poppet, I knew you then. You were so sure that you were right. Neville tried to talk to you about it a few times, but you always ignored him."

"Are the House Elves filing formal charges against our Keeper for attempting to break their bonds?" Orion asked with a worried frown.

"No, luckily they are willing to forgive her attempts since she was just a child at the time," Penelope answered. She glanced at her paperwork and then looked up at Orion. "Instead they would like to work with your Keeper to educate her." Penelope hesitated. "Unfortunately, the only way for them to really do that is through a bond."

"A... a bond?" Hermione frowned. "But if they are so angry with me why would they do that?"

Penelope rubbed her forehead. "A magical household creates magical build up; it needs to be drained regularly to keep the household safe. Otherwise you end up attracting all sorts of nasty magical pests like doxies and garden gnomes. House Elves are not true elves. They are more properly considered a type of brownie, or _genius loci_. They _need _a family the same way that a dryad needs a tree or a naiad needs a river or spring. Bonding with a family allows them to access the family's magic; draining off the excess magic keeps the household and its House Elves healthy."

Hermione frowned. "But... I..." She turned to the Black wizards. "I don't know what to do."

"That's your choice, of course," Cygnus told her. "You are our Keeper. We will abide by your decision."

"I would like the opportunity to learn," Hermione said slowly.

"I have a list of requirements," Penelope told her. "Erm, they do not want to be insulted with wizarding money."

"Insulted?" Hermione couldn't help the indignant surprise that went through her.

"House Elves don't use money," Penelope explained. "In their culture, the bond is a necessary thing that when carried out properly enriches the bonded parties. To offer them money in exchange for the bond... well, you're basically doing the cultural equivalent of calling them prostitutes."

Hermione flushed a dull red. "I had no idea," she murmured.

"I'll pass it along. In addition, there's the matter of trying to give them days off," Penelope continued. She looked up from her paperwork with a frown. "The bond cannot be turned on or shut off at will. It is a continuous thing that feeds and supports the House Elf constantly. There are no 'days off' for the bond. Again, attempting to do so implies that somehow a bond is something that can be purchased or bartered for, and such a suggestion insults House Elves deeply."

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. Shock and embarrassment filled her. She had no idea that House Elves had their own language, culture and customs... although she supposed she ought to have done. Instead of helping them like she had meant to do she had grievously insulted the entire people. Her cheeks burned with shame. Still, the House Elves were willing to work with her, and they had promised to teach her. Hermione never turned down the chance to learn something new. "Do you think I might learn their language?" She asked Penelope.

Orion snorted softly next to her while Penelope shook her head regretfully.

"I am very sorry, Keeper Black," Penelope apologized. "The House Elf language is made up of sounds that the human palate cannot reproduce. It is slightly less difficult for them to learn our language, but it still very difficult for them to do so."

"Oh." Hermione hadn't considered that before.

Orion patted her gently on the arm. "It isn't as though you were a Magical Linguist, my Lady," he soothed.

"It might be possible to learn the written language," Cygnus offered from his place on her other side. "I'm sure the House Elves would be happy to work with you on that front. They have some truly beautiful poetry."

"Oh." Hermione seemed to be saying that a lot, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. She had been completely blindsided by this unexpected knowledge. Everything she had ever thought about House Elves was wrong. Not only that, but that she had taken her ignorance and had hurt the House Elves she had wanted to help. She didn't even realize that she was crying until Orion pulled her onto his lap. He patted her back awkwardly.

"What are the House Elves proposing?" Orion asked curiously.

"Well, this isn't exactly a formal thing," Penelope explained with a nervous glance to the door. "I'm only a junior here, but the House Elves don't like the seniors. The head of the department here is friends with Umbridge," Penelope added with a grimace.

"Perhaps it is just a couple of House Elves who wish to bond with the House of Black?" Orion suggested with a smooth smile. "This, of course, doesn't need to be anything formal."

Penelope nodded eagerly. "Yes, that would be perfect."

"Can they come to the Manor tomorrow afternoon?" Cygnus asked.

"I believe so." Penelope glanced at her papers. "Yes, that should be fine."

"We have a kobold in the kitchen," Orion added. "He's been with us for centuries."

"I'll make sure to mention that," Penelope agreed. "I don't think it will be a problem. Most House Elves get along with kobolds and brownies just fine."

"Excellent." Orion shot her another polite smile. "I don't suppose we might use your Floo? It would help us avoid the crowds."

"Oh, of course not," Penelope agreed.

After a brief argument about which way would be the safest, the Black wizards used the Floo in Penelope's office to get their Keeper to Black Manor. Hermione stumbled over the grate, but Regulus was there to take her hand and steady her.

"Are you well, my Lady?" Cygnus asked concern shining in his dark eyes.

Hermione frowned up at him. "I'm fine. Why do you all keep calling me 'my Lady'?"

"Because you are?" Cygnus appeared to be confused and he looked to Regulus for help.

"Sirius calls me by my name," Hermione protested.

The wizard in question had just stepped through the Floo and he turned to his brother and cousin with a raised eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"She is upset because we respect her?" Cygnus offered with a helpless look at Sirius.

"Ah." Sirius smirked at them. "Poppet, you have to remember that all of the protocols for dealing with a Keeper are centuries old. The last Keeper was four hundred years ago. At that time it was proper and normal for a husband to call his wife 'my lady', and for a Keeper to be granted all possible courtesy."

"It's a bit disconcerting," Hermione protested. "Couldn't you just call me Hermione?"

"Of course, if that's what you wish us to do," Orion agreed immediately. "Hermione," he added after a moment.

"I do," Hermione replied firmly. Then her face crumpled and she sat down on a nearby chair. "I only ever wanted to help," she announced to the room at large.

"Sweetheart, I think the House Elves understand that," Sirius told her in a gentle voice. He patted her shoulder carefully as though her were afraid she might burst into tears at any moment. "If they truly thought you were attempting to harm them or insult their culture they would file formal complaints, and publicly ostracize you. They want to work with you. I'd take that as a good sign."

"Do you think so?" The hopeful expression on Hermione's face pulled at all four wizards.

"I think Sirius' assessment is accurate... Hermione," Cygnus answered her.

"Would you care for a tour of Black Manor?" Orion offered in a blatant attempt to change the subject.

Hermione stood and shook out the Keeper's robes. "We should," she agreed. The idea that this was now her home was still new and strange. So far she had only seen this small parlour where the Floo was connected. She was quite certain that anything called 'Black Manor' must have more than that.

"We should start in the kitchen," Cygnus suggested. "We'll need to introduce her to the kobold."

"I've never met a kobold before," Hermione murmured with a worried frown.

"They're similar to brownies and _genius loci_," Orion explained with a warm smile for their Keeper. "The only difference being that a kobold is bound to the hearth itself as opposed to the house."

"Do I need to do anything special?" Hermione asked looking at each of them in turn. "Is there some sort of ritual that we need to do?"

"Not especially. Because you are our Keeper the kobold will recognize you as the Manor's mistress. Just make sure that he has cream and fresh bread every day and he'll make sure that our fires never go out and our food is never burned," Orion stated.

"Cream and fresh bread," Hermione muttered under her breath missing the fond looks that all four wizards cast her way.

The kitchens of Black Manor were much bigger than Hermione would have guessed. They reminded her of a tour that she had taken once in primary school. She couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her when Cygnus coaxed the kobold out of its hearth. He was about the same height as a House Elf, but he was a sooty, coal black as opposed to the greyish-pink of House Elves. His ears were smaller and he didn't bother with clothes. Hermione supposed that made sense as the kobold spent most of the day in the hearth's fire. She curtseyed deeply to the kobold.

"It's an honour to meet you," Hermione murmured.

The kobold bowed back. "The Manor is pleased to have a true mistress once again."

"A true mistress?" Hermione latched onto those words and turned to her wizards for answers. She just managed to catch Orion shooting a disgruntled look at the kobold and hid a smile. She was either becoming more familiar with her wizards, or Orion was relaxing enough to let her see beyond his outer façade. She wasn't sure which was true, but both boded well for all of them.

"The last few Patriarchs have denied their wives the position of Matriarch, and have refused them the right of being true mistresses of the Manor," Orion explained. He shrugged helplessly. "If I had to guess I would say that they were afraid of allowing their wives that much power. As our Keeper you automatically hold that position, which reminds me…," he hunted through his pockets and then sent her a blinding smile. A small chinking, tinkling noise was her only warning. Orion pulled out a small ornate silver brooch with a group of tiny implements attached to it. "These are yours, my la—er, Hermione."

"What are they?" Hermione asked. The implements… they appeared to be little charms of a sort… glittered in the sunlight that poured through the kitchen's large windows. Some of them were silver and some were gold. All of them appeared to be carefully crafted.

"The symbol of your position as Matriarch and Mistress of the Manor," Orion replied. "Together they are called a _chatelaine_, and these are the tools you will need to fulfil your duties. Here is the seal of our House. You can sign and authorize contracts just as I can. Here is your personal seal as Matriarch. This key is to your personal study. This key is to your private workroom. This key is to the spice cupboard."

"The spice cupboard?" Hermione hadn't meant to interrupt Orion in mid-explanation, but she couldn't help herself. The other little charms had made sense to her… but a spice cupboard?

"It's a very old custom," Regulus offered from his position behind her. "Back when the House of Black's _chatelaine_ was first crafted a lot of spices, and magical herbs, could be costly and rare. This was before the Floo system, and before Diagon Alley. Many people kept them under lock and key to make sure that they weren't wasted. It might seem a mere curiosity, but once there are small children in the house you might change your mind." Regulus' cheeks turned pink when he mentioned children.

"A magical _chatelaine_ is special because it holds the memories of all of the previous Matriarchs," Sirius added. "Not all of their memories, of course. Usually practical or important information related to the artefact in question. Try using one of the keys."

"Well, we're already in the kitchen. Where is the spice cupboard?" Hermione asked and held up the small silver key that Orion had indicated. The kobold pointed to an ancient-looking chest that was set against one of the walls. Hermione knelt in front of it and inserted the key into the lock. The lock glowed brightly for a moment, and then Hermione was thrown into a memory from long ago.

_The jingle of the keys on Eadwine's belt brought a blush to her cheeks. She was the Mistress of this house, and the wife of Nigellus Nigrus, Nigel the Black. He was a stranger to their shores, an Imperial Magician fleeing the fall of the Roman Empire. Among the Saxons of Kent he stood out with his coal-black hair and his bright silvery-grey eyes. Eadwine had been reluctant to wed the stranger, but her father had counselled her well. Nigellus Nigrus was a skilled wizard, and would no doubt be able to provide well for his wife and any children. _

_Pushing the thought of children from her mind Eadwine moved quickly to the kitchen and the spice cupboard. She opened it carefully and gasped once she saw its contents. Neatly labelled packets of spices were in one tray. In the tray next to it were potions ingredients in their protective silk pouches. Eadwine struggled to read the Latin inscriptions on the tags. _

"_Are you finding everything well, uxorem?" Nigellus' deep voice startled Eadwine. _

"_I can't read these labels," she informed him with a frown. _

_Nigellus nodded. "I can tell you what each is and we can add the proper runes to the labels. Would that please you?"_

_Eadwine smiled up at him. "It would, husband."_

Hermione gasped as she came back to herself and the memories of the Black Matriarch released her. "My goodness," she murmured.

"An instructive memory?" Orion asked curiously.

"You can't access them?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"No, only the Matriarch can properly use those tools," Orion explained.

Hermione bit her lip and her brow creased as she thought. "I guess… that we'll have to compromise and teach one another to be successful?" She looked up to see four very pleased wizards.

"A truly wise Matriarch gave you that memory," Regulus stated firmly.

"It was Eadwine… she was married to Nigellus Nigrus." Hermione told them.

Regulus gasped. "The First Matriarch?"

"Nigellus Nigrus is our first ancestor here," Cygnus offered after an indulgent smile at Regulus' awed expression. "He fled the fall of Rome, and all of our family's records from before that period are lost. We know that his grandfather served the Imperial court as a magician, but we don't know anything passed that. We don't even know who Nigellus' parents were."

"That would have been in the 5th century!" Hermione was shocked that the Blacks could trace their family back so far.

"That's why it's an Ancient House, Hermione," Sirius teased her gently. "This Manor sits on the ruins of our ancestor's home. None of it goes back that far, but it's on the same land."

"Well, there are the stones," Orion argued. "They go back farther."

"True, but they have no direct link to our family. Ancestor Nigellus merely took advantage of what was already here," Sirius countered.

Orion smirked at his son. "A true Slytherin before there was such a thing."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"The stones?" Hermione's curiosity had been roused again.

"A small circle of sarsen stones on the property," Sirius explained. "They're roughly as old as those at Trottiscliffe."

"May we see them?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Of course, Hermione," Orion soothed her. Using their Keeper's name was odd—it felt almost sacrilegious, but he was adjusting. "We need to take you to them anyway. All of the important events to our House have occurred at those standing stones, including the marriage of our first Matriarch to the first Patriarch. After so much time the stones have become almost sentient. They are tied to the wards, and they act as guardians of the family."

The entire group took leave of the kitchen and its kobold. Hermione swept a deep curtsey to the kobold who gave her an even deeper bow before her wizards ushered her through the kitchen out into its attached garden. The state of the kitchen gardens would most likely have Professor Sprout and Neville Longbottom in tears. Overgrown and unkempt the former glory of the garden was just vaguely discernible. Hermione made a mental note to ask about them later.

"The stone are this way, my… Hermione," Regulus caught himself and then blushed at their Keeper.

Hermione slid her hand into the crook of his arm and smiled up at him. "Lead the way," she encouraged him.

The grounds of Black Manor were extensive and Hermione hurried to keep pace with her long-legged wizards. After walking for almost a half-hour they approached a small grassy area which held a group of small sarsen stones. The tallest was just an inch or two higher than Hermione, but most of them came to her hips. They hummed with magic and as the group drew closer they began to glow.

"They're showing off for you." Even as Orion said the words aloud he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The stones, as the Black family referred to them, were so ancient that no one knew from whence they had come. Over countless centuries they had been imbued with magic, and for the last fifteen centuries they had been tended and guarded by the House of Black. The Black family belonged to the stones as much as the stones belonged to them. Now these stones were recognizing their Keeper and welcoming her to Black Manor. The happiness and contentment that rose from the stones as Hermione drew near could not be mistaken for anything else.

"They are?" Hermione was amazed at the sense of peace and happiness that surrounded her as she moved closer to the stones. "Thank you," she told the stone nearest her as politely as she could. "I'm pleased to be here. I hope...," she paused and blushed deeply. "I hope that I will be a good Matriarch and uphold the honour of this House."

"You will," Orion agreed. He took one of her small, slender hands in his. "I'm afraid that we need to make a small sacrifice for the stones. It will be just a small cut."

"Very well," Hermione sighed. "Just do it quickly."

Silently, Regulus handed over a wicked-looking dagger that bore the Black crest on the pommel. Hermione stood calmly as the blade sliced into the flesh on the heel of her hand. A bead of blood welled in the cut and ran towards her palm. Orion gently guided her closer to the stones. Hermione pressed her palm to the stones. This wasn't even close to the sacrifice she had made to bring them back. This was barely more than a paper cut. The glow of the stones grew even brighter and Hermione blinked rapidly in an attempt to shield her eyes from the light.

"Wow," Sirius breathed. He turned to grin at Hermione. "You don't do anything by halves, do you poppet?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "I had nothing to do with that," she protested.

"It may be because she is a Keeper," Cygnus suggested with a thoughtful look in his eye. "Perhaps we ought to see if any of the other recognition rituals had unusual responses."

"A good idea, but not today, Cygnus," Orion said firmly. "At the moment it is far more important that we get to know one another."

"Of course, Orion," Cygnus agreed.

"Get to know one another?" Hermione squeaked and her eyes widened anxiously.

"My lady," Orion began hesitantly. He paused and gave her a slightly deprecating smile. "Hermione," he amended. He blew out air through his lips explosively and ran a hand through his hair. "You are our wife. We must needs get along together. Soon, very soon, we'll need to consummate this marriage, and I for one would rather be in our marriage bed with someone I know rather than a complete stranger."

Heat suffused Hermione's cheeks and swept down her throat and under her neckline. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she stared up at Orion. "Yes," she finally managed to get out. "That sounds like an intelligent plan."

"Thank you, Hermione," Orion said with a sardonic smile. He held out his arm and felt an unfurling sensation in his chest when she slipped her small hand through the crook in his arm.

The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring Black Manor as each wizard took turns proudly explaining the history of the family estate. Hermione walked through the grounds taking turns on each wizard's arm.  
Cygnus took her arm as he escorted her through the pleasure gardens. These were nowhere near the ruins of the kitchen gardens and appeared to be in slightly better shape.

"We have a maze," Cygnus informed her. He looked down at her with a slow-burning heat in his dark eyes. "Would you care to take a turn through it?"

"Not today," Hermione murmured. The heat in those eyes made her belly flip-flop, and she wasn't certain if she were ready for it just yet.

"Of course," Cygnus replied immediately with an inclination of his head.

"You just wanted an excuse to steal a kiss inside the labyrinth," Regulus accused his cousin in a harsh whisper as Hermione took Orion's arm again and moved off with a sweep of her long skirts.

Cygnus frowned at Regulus. "Is there a reason you feel the need to state the obvious?" He muttered out of the side of his mouth so that the others wouldn't hear them.

Regulus flushed. "She should know what you were planning. She is a Gryffindor, according to Sirius, and they aren't given to subtlety."

Cygnus snorted in amusement. "Have a care that she doesn't hear you say that, Regulus." He glanced after their wife and smiled slightly at the bounce of her curls against her back. "She strikes me as the sort of Gryffindor that ought to have been placed in Slytherin."

/\/\/\/\

The library was everything that Hermione had dreamed of and more. Her fingers itched to stroke the bindings, and she slipped through the stacks pausing here and there to note a particular tome that garnered her interest. She made careful mental notes about where she would begin her assault, but at the moment there was not enough time.

"Hermione? Sirius says that dinner is ready. He says it is called 'takeaway'. Do you know what that is?" Regulus' brows crinkled in a way that Hermione found utterly adorable.

"It depends," Hermione replied. She smiled up at Regulus. "I'm sure it will be delicious."

Regulus stared at her for a moment, his dark grey eyes growing even darker. "Thank you," he whispered to her.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "What for?"

"For saving us," he explained. "For helping to restore our House. It's a debt that we will never be able to repay."

"Oh," Hermione murmured. She felt a strong urge to tell him that it was nothing, but it hadn't been. The sacrifice was still fresh in her mind, and she could almost hear the baying of the Hounds of Annwn. Regulus had moved closer until his chest was nearly brushing hers. His eyes had grown darker still and his pupils were blown wide.

"May I kiss you?" He asked in a rough voice.

"Yes." She could feel herself nodding, which was redundant, but she didn't want there to be any confusion. She wanted Regulus to kiss her.

Capable hands tilted her face up, and then slid along her scalp to tangle themselves in her thick, unruly curls. Regulus' lips touched hers hesitantly—as though he were afraid that she might change her mind. When she sighed against his lips that seemed to be some sort of signal because Regulus' lips crashed against hers and his hands held her lips in place. He began to nibble on her lips teasing her with flicks of his tongue. She moaned and did a little nibbling of her own. The touch of Regulus' tongue against hers earned him another moan and an attempt on Hermione's part to mould herself against his body. The hard planes of his chest pressed against her softer curves and she could feel the sharp bones of his hips pushing into her flesh. There was something else that was most definitely not a hipbone that was also digging into her hip and she whimpered into his mouth.

"Hey Hermione dinner… is…" Sirius had wandered into the library and froze when he saw Regulus kissing Hermione. All of the blood in his body went screaming southward at the sight of Hermione's head tilted back as Regulus claimed her lips. The little whimpering, moaning noises she made were making it painful for Sirius to walk toward them. "Regulus? Hermione? Everyone's waiting." He said this rather loudly.

The couple burst apart and heat seeped into Hermione's cheeks. "Um."

"Sweetheart, kissing your husband is normal and healthy," Sirius reassured her. "It's just that our curry is getting cold." He held out an arm and winked at her. "Shall we?"

"Thank you," she murmured and took his arm.

Regulus trailed along after them reliving the kiss in his mind. A goofy grin spread over his face as he watched Hermione walking in front of him. Her hips swayed in the long Keeper's robes, and her curls bounced against her back as she walked. She was so much more than he had ever dreamed of when he had longed for a Keeper. Hermione was like no other witch he had ever met, and he couldn't be more grateful.


	6. Delicate Negotiations

_A/N: We're still in some tricky waters so I thought I would give you all this note to help clarify any points of contention. _

_We know very little of Dobby's bonding and life with the Malfoys. We know very little of the Malfoys either. What little we do know are the brief glimpses that Harry receives at instances throughout the series. Unfortunately, Harry is what is commonly referred to as a naïf narrator. Much of what he sees is without any sort of context or explanation. Occasionally he tries to create his own context/understanding, and very often he is incorrect e.g. Snape was blamed for Quirrel's handiwork in the first book. _

_Canon states that Abraxas Malfoy was alive until "some point before 1996". Draco knew his grandfather and remembers him so I would posit that he was older when his grandfather died—perhaps some time after he started at Hogwarts. _

_Speculation that Abraxas attended Hogwarts during the same time period as Tom Riddle, and was one of the Knights of Walpurgis (pre-Death Eaters) and later a Death Eater is rife among the fandom. If this is true, if Abraxas had a long relationship with Tom Riddle, it would make more sense to me that Abraxas would have been the one entrusted with diary Horcrux. At that point, it is possible that Lucius was sent to the Flourish & Blott's by his father Abraxas. He might not have known it was a Horcrux. Then again, he might have done. It is impossible to know as we are never given this information. _

_In that scenario I would also posit that Dobby, as a Malfoy House Elf, was bound to Abraxas, not Lucius. Dobby, for his part, only speaks about his Master obliquely. He never refers to anyone by name. _

_/\/\/\/\_

"Must I wear this?" Hermione complained as she tugged at the stiff silk of her Keeper's robes.

"Yes." Narcissa smacked at her hands and then tried to adjust the plaquet with the Black family arms so that it laid flat on her chest.

"Why?" Hermione demanded.

"Imagine this as a meeting with an ambassador or a foreign dignitary," Andromeda explained as she carefully arranged Hermione's hair. "You need to show the House Elf delegation the utmost respect. Wearing your Keeper's robes conveys that respect and shows that you are willing to honor the House Elves."

"How are getting along with your husbands?" Tonks asked curiously with a wicked gleam in her eye.

A deep blush swept up Hermione's cheeks. "F-fine."

"Ignore my daughter," Andromeda said with a sigh. "She has yet to learn the proper time to discuss such things." She sent a stern look in Tonks' direction and the younger woman flushed and looked at her lap.

"I was just trying to make her relax," Tonks muttered.

"Except that with our Keeper it has had the opposite effect," Narcissa countered tartly as she smoothed the skirts with expert little twitches of her fingers.

Quickly and neatly Andromeda finished Hermione's hair and she moved to stand next to Narcissa. The two women eyed her with a narrowed gaze and Hermione shivered slightly. She caught Tonks' eye and the other woman sent her a sympathetic glance.

"I think she'll do," Narcissa murmured thoughtfully.

Andromeda frowned. "I suppose."

A light bell sounded and both Andromeda and Narcissa twitched slightly.

"That would be the House Elf delegation," Andromeda informed Hermione.

The delegation was more and less than Hermione had thought it would be. She paused for a moment. She honestly hadn't had any clue what to expect today so she supposed that anything would have been a surprise. The House Elf delegation was comprised of a group of eight House Elves. They all appeared to be wearing tea towels, but Hermione realized with a spurt of surprise that they were actually wearing togas. Suddenly, Penelope's comment came back to her. The Ministry employee had stated that House Elves were actually _genius loci_. She hadn't thought about what that meant in the context of House Elf culture and history, but when faced with a small group of toga-clad House Elves she wondered if she ought to have done.

"Ave, Arx Domus." One House Elf stepped forward from the group and made a gesture of greeting.

Hermione sank into a deep curtsy. "Welcome to Black Manor," she replied carefully.

"Thank you." The House Elf who was acting as the speaker for the delegation gave her a stiff little bow in return. "Is the House of Black having a room that it would like to be using for these discussions?"

"We do," Orion spoke from the doorway of the Green Parlour. He gestured politely. "If you please?"

The women of the House of Black waited until the House Elf delegation had trooped into the Green Parlour and then they gestured for Hermione to precede them. She moved eagerly toward the Green Parlour. She moved to sit with her husbands and turned toward the delegation.

"How does this work?" She asked curiously.

The speaker looked at the other House Elves and then turned back to Hermione. "The House Elves is having a list of concerns. The House Elves is also understanding that Missy Keeper is having questions."

"Yes." Hermione nodded emphatically.

The speaker pulled a scroll out of its toga. "First, the House Elves that be standing here are all open to being bonded to the House of Black."

Hermione nodded. She had suspected as much from what Penelope Clearwater had told her during their brief talk at the Ministry. "I understand."

"Second, the bonding is to be taking place only if Missy Keeper is promising to agree to the conditions," the speaker continued. He then looked up and eyed Hermione expectantly.

"What are the conditions?" Hermione asked.

"This is being…," the House Elf paused and looked back at the delegation.

"An experiment," prompted a female House Elf firmly.

The speaker nodded. "Yes, this is being an experiment. Therefore Missy Keeper will not be giving clothes to any House Elf."

"Erm, can I ask about that?" Hermione tried cautiously. She gave the delegation a tentative smile and they stared back at her stonily, their great wide eyes unblinking. "You are all wearing clothes right now, aren't you? They're togas, aren't they?"

The speaker tugged self-consciously at the hem of his toga. "They is togas, yes."

"And," Hermione was thinking rapidly about what she could remember about ancient Rome. "And togas are a symbol of respect and status, aren't they?"

"They is," the speaker agreed.

"So… so giving you clothes is really taking away your toga… your status?" Hermione guessed.

The delegation nodded slowly.

"So the tea towels that most House Elves wear… those are a kind of toga? A working toga?" Hermione asked. "Like a sort of utili-kilt?"

"A what?" The speaker appeared to be confused.

"Sorry." Hermione gestured helplessly. "I was thinking out loud, I apologize. Okay, so I misunderstood all of that. I'm very sorry. I promise I won't try to demean anyone's status by taking away their toga."

"Good," the female House Elf said firmly with a gimlet look in her eye. She reminded Hermione vaguely of Professor McGonagall.

"We is agreeing to leave the hearth to the kobold, but the rest of the Manor will be ours to care for," the speaker read from the scroll and then paused to look at Hermione.

She nodded. "The kobold said that would be fine. He's willing to work with whoever will be in the kitchens as long as they respect the hearth and the stove as his."

The delegation murmured to itself, but it sounded as though they were fine with that.

"We is agreeing to teach Missy Keeper about House Elf customs and culture," the speaker continued.

Hermione beamed at the speaker. "Thank you," she replied eagerly.

"Who is willing to bond with the Missy Keeper?" The speaker asked.

Three House Elves stepped forward. The stern female House Elf that reminded Hermione of Professor McGonagall, a male House Elf that appeared to be slightly younger, a female House Elf that also appeared to be younger, and then the speaker who had stepped forward to include himself in the group.

"These House Elves is being witnesses to this bond," the stern female House Elf informed them. "We is bonding to the Keeper as the Matriarch of the Black Family."

"Wait, what are your names?" Hermione asked curiously.

The stern female opened her mouth and produced a string of complex syllables that Hermione couldn't even come close to reproducing with any accuracy. "You may call me Minny."

Hermione blinked and then nodded. She turned expectantly to the speaker.

Another string of incomprehensible House Elf syllables. He gave her a small bow. "You may call me Gussy."

"Gussy," she repeated under her breath.

The younger male tugged nervously on his toga and gave her an awkward half-bow. "Just call me Tuppy," he muttered.

Hermione turned to the older House Elves. "Was it wrong to ask?"

Minny sighed. "He is young. It makes him nervous to give you his real name."

"If you were a powerful enough witch you could use his true name to bind him in a way that truly is the slavery you were so upset about," Orion explained quickly in a soft murmur. "The fact that you are a Keeper makes him suspect that you are a strong witch."

"Oh," Hermione breathed out in horror. "I'm so sorry," she exclaimed. "I apologize. I—I had no idea."

"Gussy and Minny is knowing this," Minny countered. "This is why we is giving you our true names. Missy Keeper will not be doing anything evil or wrong or she would not be a Keeper."

"I'm Jinx," the last of the four announced and offered Hermione a shy smile and a slightly wobbly curtsy.

"I'm Hermione Jean Granger," she offered as a way to make amends with Tuppy.

"Black," Four male voices chorused firmly.

Hermione flushed. "Right." She glanced at her husbands and then shook her head. "I'm still getting used to that part of it."

"Thank you," Tuppy said slowly. He glanced at her husbands and then gave her another half-bow.

"How do we do the bond? Is there a ceremony? Is there some sort of ritual?" Hermione asked.

"It is depending on the bonders," Minny explained. "We is wanting to show you House Elf traditions so we is doing it the oldest way." She turned to Orion. "You is still having the sarsen stones here at the Black Manor?"

"Yes." Orion nodded. "We can show you the way."

"I is remembering," Minny replied with stiff dignity.

Orion faltered for a moment. "You are from the line of Rolly?"

Minny nodded.

All four Black wizards bowed to her and the Black witches curtsied deeply. Hermione followed them hurriedly into the curtsy, but she looked to Orion for answers.

"You haven't seen it yet, but Rolly was the House Elf bonded to Nigellus the Black," Cygnus murmured softly next to her.

"Oh," Hermione murmured.

"House Elves inherit memories from their ancestors," Cygnus continued in a quiet murmur. "Since she is from Rolly's line she truly does remember the way to the sarsen stones."

"Extraordinary," Hermione whispered.

Orion and Cygnus flanked Hermione and Sirius and Regulus followed closely behind as they led her out to the standing stones. The House Elves ranged themselves inside the circle and the Blacks all filed in and did the same. Tonks tried to encourage her with a thumbs up gesture.

Gussy began to speak and it took Hermione a moment to realize that it was not quite Latin. She turned to her husbands.

"It's a sort of proto-Latin," Cygnus whispered. "It's the language of the oldest binding rituals we have recorded."

Hermione nodded. The sarsen stones had begun to hum with magic as Hermione drew near them and now they glowed brightly. As Gussy spoke there was a delicate breeze that seemed to blow through the area where the stones were and a soft chiming.

"The stones will bear witness," Cygnus explained.

A strange, heavy sensation settled over Hermione and she realized that it was the stones. The near-sentience that she had felt when Orion introduced her to the stones was back. She could now understand everything that Gussy was saying.

"We come before you as representatives of the People," he announced to the stones. "We wish to live on your land, dwell within your walls, and protect your House. The four of us pledge to guard and to preserve the Citadel of the House of Black and her pledged wizards. We further pledge to help the House to grow and prosper. We will help remove the taint and stain of those who destroyed this House, and we will make it whole and healthy once again."

The stones rumbled slightly in Hermione's head. There was a feeling of acceptance. Gussy turned to Hermione and gave her a bow.

"Hail Stronghold of the House of Black." He made a little saluting gesture. "I pledge myself to you as free citizen of the People. I have no bonds that bind me and no other vows to hold me. My magic will be used to keep and to care for your House as long as it lasts."

"I hear your vow," Hermione said slowly. She could feel the stones pushing her to accept the vow and she felt them now urging her to make her own vows. She took a deep slow breath and let it out. She let the magic of the stones and the House of Black wash over her. "I pledge my House to you as Matriarch and Keeper. The Magic of my House will be used to sustain and support you as long as it lasts."

Each in turn Minny, Tuppy, and Jinx stepped forward to make their own vows. Each House Elf carefully cut his or her palm and pressed a small, bloody hand against the nearest stone. Hermione could feel the bond taking effect through the stones. It settled over her like a weight, and she realized that she was now responsible for the House Elves who had bonded to her House. The bond sounded more like the sorts of vows exchanged between a knight and a liege lord; it was an oath of fealty more than anything else.

The other members of the delegation made respectful bows and bade everyone goodbye. They left with the crack that signaled a House Elf's transportation. All of them were returning to the Manor, but Hermione still felt weighted down by her oaths and she moved slower than the others. Minny paused by her and frowned up at her.

"Is Missy Keeper being all right?" Minny asked.

Hermione stopped walking. "How do wizards… how _can_ they pervert the oaths the way they do? How can they hurt those to whom they've pledged themselves and their honour?" Hermione demanded.

"Why do some wizards kill? Why do some rape?" Minny countered after a moment. "Is a wizard being born this way, or is he being made this way? Minny is not knowing."

"But… it's wrong!" Hermione protested.

Minny snorted. "Of course it is being wrong! Wizards is doing it anyway!"

Hermione blinked. "Do you… do House Elves punish wizards for abusing their oaths?" She hadn't ever considered that before—if the House Elves were considered a sovereign nation like the Goblins or the Centaurs then House Elf abuse might come down to a matter of jurisdiction.

Gussy cleared his throat to alert them to his presence. "We do," he offered.

"House Elves is having their own justice," Minny added.

"What… what do you do to them?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The first thing that House Elves is doing is having the House Elf Relocation Office remove any House Elves that is in the same House," Minny explained. She tugged at one of her ears. "Then it is depending on how severe the issue is. Sometimes we is cursing the wizard, and sometimes we is cursing the whole House."

A gentle pressure on her lower back alerted Hermione to the fact that her wizards had wondered what had happened to her and had come looking. It was Cygnus' hand that was resting protectively on the small of her back. She smiled up at him reassuringly, but his attention was on the House Elves.

"Abraxas Malfoy did not die of Dragon Pox," Cygnus observed.

Gussy gave Cygnus a grim smile. "No, he did not."

"What about Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione demanded. "What about Dobby?"

Minny's face grew pinched and her mouth turned down. "That is an involved case. Dobby was being bound to Abraxas Malfoy. All of the House Elves that were in Malfoy Manor were removed several years ago. Punishment was being given to Abraxas."

Hermione frowned. "But… Dobby was Lucius' House Elf… wasn't he?"

"Abraxas Malfoy died in the summer of 1993," Cygnus explained. "He was the Head of the House of Malfoy."

"But Dobby was freed when Lucius gave him a sock." Hermione rubbed at her temples.

"As the Heir Lucius would have had the ability to free any House Elves bound to his House," Orion offered. He paused thoughtfully and turned to Gussy. "Is that why you didn't take any further action against the House of Malfoy? Was it because Lucius freed an abused House Elf?"

"He didn't even do it on purpose," Hermione protested. "It was more Harry than Lucius."

"It is not Minny's place to say," Minny countered stiffly. She glanced around and then frowned up at Hermione. "Missy Keeper should come inside. It's getting chilly."

Orion snorted. "She's from the line of Rolly, all right. Prepare to be terrorized within an inch of your life my… Hermione."

Minny sniffed. "Minny is being a good House Elf."

"But," Hermione tried to protest again, but the House Elves were apparently uncomfortable talking about another House's business. They refused to talk about the matter for the rest of the day despite Hermione's numerous attempts to the contrary. Eventually Orion pulled her into a small alcove.

"Yes?" Hermione looked up at him curiously.

Orion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It would be helpful if you would stop badgering the House Elves."

"But… I just want to know what happened," Hermione protested.

"Are you a Malfoy?" Orion countered.

Hermione frowned up at him. "No," she muttered.

"It is their House's business." Orion took hold of her hands and squatted down so that he was looking in her eyes. "Would you want the House Elves to tell anyone who asked about your difficulties with them?"

Hermione flushed. "I suppose not," she admitted.

"In addition, it isn't of your business," Orion pointed out.

"But, but, if Lucius Malfoy didn't mistreat his House Elves," Hermione sputtered helplessly.

Orion blinked at her and frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

"People should know that it wasn't him—that it was Abraxas!" Hermione explained.

Orion's frown grew. "Why?"

"He's innocent!" Hermione proclaimed passionately.

Orion snorted in amusement. "I highly doubt that," he countered drily. Then he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Hermione, Lucius does not need, nor does he want everyone to know his House's personal matters. If his father did betray the House Elf bond that is a stain on his House's honour. It will be cold comfort that he wasn't personally responsible."

"But," Hermione tried again.

"What does it change, if the public knows?" Orion asked.

Hermione frowned. "Nothing," she admitted.

Orion smiled warmly at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "You have a caring heart, Hermione," he told her with a sigh.

"You make it sound like a flaw," Hermione muttered.

Orion tilted up her chin and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "One might wish that your caring heart was focused only on your husbands." He smirked at her, and kissed her again. "However, even with our brief acquaintance I know that will not be the case."

Pink seeped into Hermione's cheeks. "I want to do some good in the world," Hermione protested.

Orion cupped her face in his hands. "And we shall help you," he murmured. He leaned down and kissed her deeply. He smiled against her mouth when she sighed and wrapped her arms about his neck.

/\/\/\/\

"So where are you sleeping?" Tonks asked with avid curiosity.

Hermione blinked. "I—what do you mean?"

"With all of them together? Or do you have one at a time, or what?" Tonks clarified.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed several times. "I… I don't know. We haven't discussed it."

"How does that work?" Tonks pressed with a thoughtful expression. "I mean, there are four of them and only one of you. Wouldn't they be able to outvote you?"

"What?" Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot. "Why would we vote? What would we be voting on?"

Orion appeared at her side and he slid an arm about her waist. "Are you well, Hermione?"

"Where do I sleep?" Hermione demanded anxiously.

Orion looked from his Keeper's worried face to his smiling cousin. "In the Matriarch's suite, of course."

"Where do the rest of you sleep?" Hermione asked with a little frown.

"I will sleep in the rooms adjoining yours. Cygnus' suite is next to mine. Sirius and Regulus are on the other side in their own suites," Orion recited from memory. He watched Hermione for a moment. "Would you rather we change the suites around?"

"No, no, that's fine," Hermione muttered.

Deftly, Orion maneuvered Hermione away from his young cousin and toward a small settee. He sat down and pulled Hermione down next to him. His arm slid about her waist again and he held her against his side.

"We will respect your privacy," he assured her in a quiet voice.

Hermione nodded. "I know you will," she murmured.

"Then what is worrying you?" Orion asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," Hermione fretted. "This is so different—so new."

Orion nodded to himself. "Hermione, this is new to all of us as well. We are all trying to find our way together." He hid a fond smile by pressing his lips to her temple as she relaxed against him letting the tension drain from her body. It was amazing how quickly he was growing used to her ways.

"I suppose that's true," she acknowledged.

"Please do not be afraid to come to any one of us if you have any questions or concerns," Orion urged her.

Hermione nodded. "I will."

The earnest look in her eyes was Orion's undoing. He could not help but bend his head to hers and capture her lips yet again in another chaste kiss. When he pulled back she was looking up at him with a slightly glazed expression. He smiled down at her and brushed a lock of hair off of her brow.

/\/\/\/\

The next morning Hermione was awakened by Jinx. Being waited on had worried Hermione—it was something that she was unused to, something that seemed alien and foreign to her—but Jinx was no one's maid. She was more like a private secretary. She did give Hermione a stern look when the witch attempted to put on jeans and a jumper. With a sigh, Hermione struggled into her voluminous Keeper's robes while Jinx rattled off Hermione's schedule for the day. The House Elf paused at one point to help Hermione straighten her robes, but then she continued on.

"And then Missy Keeper will need to meet with Minny to go over the menus for the week and schedule an inventory of the household," Jinx read off of her list.

"An inventory of the household?" Hermione repeated.

"Yes." Jinx paused and looked up at Hermione. "It is being a book that details everything in the house. The Masters were eager to be destroying all the Dark objects. They was not being able to update the inventory while they was cleaning."

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense. Sirius doesn't strike me as the type to be patient enough to stop and write down what he's blasting to smithereens."

Jinx's thin lips pressed together and she gave Hermione another stern look. "No they is not."

Hermione shook out her skirts and looked up at Jinx. "Well? Do I pass muster?"

Jinx frowned and snapped her fingers. Hermione could feel her hair lifting off her shoulders and pull itself back into a tidy braid. "There."

"Thank you, Jinx," Hermione replied automatically.

Jinx nodded absently as she ticked things off on her list. "Missy Keeper is needing to eat breakfast now," Jinx reminded her.

Disappointment swelled in Hermione's chest when she realized that she was the only one in the small, informal dining room that Jinx had indicated. Then she paused. Was she that attached to them already? She realized with a start of surprise that she was. Despite the fact that she had only been married for a smattering of days she already liked her husbands. She was used to their presences. She shook her head in amusement and moved to the far wall where the ornately carved sideboard stood. The sideboard held covered dishes and Hermione helped herself to fruit and toast. A small tea pot appeared on the table by her elbow. Hermione poured herself and had just taken a small sip when Cygnus entered the room. He walked toward her purposefully and she could feel an anxious, jittery feeling in her belly.

A glint in Cygnus' dark eyes was Hermione's only warning before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and bit gently before his tongue slid into her mouth and danced with hers. He pulled back and looked at her before he pressed one more kiss to her lips.

"Good morning," he murmured against her lips.

Hermione could feel her lips curve into a smile. "Good morning."

"Gussy informed me that you have a busy schedule today." Cygnus moved to the sideboard and began filling his plate.

"I do," Hermione agreed with a sigh. She nibbled at her toast. "Are you the only early riser?"

Cygnus chuckled as he moved back to the table and sat down next to Hermione. "Orion is always up first. I would wager he was up at 4:30 or 5 this morning."

"Where is he?" Hermione hoped that she'd managed keep the petulance out of her voice.

"You think you're busy today?" Cygnus pointed at her with a fork-full of eggs. "Orion is booked solid with solicitors all day. There's a lot of paperwork to Restore a House."

"Oh." Hermione turned her attention back to her plate.

"I'll tell him that you missed him," Cygnus teased.

Hermione ignored him and focused on her breakfast.

/\/\/\/\

Carefully, Minny entered the Green Parlour and walked toward them carrying a book that almost bigger than she was with reverence. She laid it down in front of Hermione.

"Missy Keeper is having the quill that will write in the House Ledger. It is recorded the inventory of this House. When it coming to the House, and from where, and when it is leaving," Minny explained.

"I do?" Hermione looked from Minny to Andromeda and Narcissa.

"The Chatelaine," Andromeda explained.

It was quick work to unpin the Chatelaine. Hermione spotted the wee silver quill almost immediately; as soon as she touched it the world around her faded into nothingness.

_Everyone was frightened of Black Julian who was more knight than wizard, but Callisto of Slytherin was not. When Black Julian had come to her father, Pelasgus of Slytherin, and asked for a marriage contract with one of his daughters Callisto's sister Dia had wept and wailed for days. _

"_What are you screeching for?" Callisto demanded. _

_Dia had sniffed imperiously. "Well, Black Julian obviously wants me. Everyone does."_

_While Callisto longed to roll her eyes at Dia she knew her sister wasn't wrong. Callisto may have been named 'beautiful', but Dia was the acknowledged beauty of the family. Father had received more marriage offers for Dia than he had for his other daughters combined. _

"_Let's not be putting the cart before the horse," Their oldest sister Psophis retorted. "Who is to say that Black Julian doesn't want our Callisto?"_

_Dia snorted in amusement. "Callisto? Don't be silly Psophis."_

_The look on Dia's face when Father informed them that Black Julian had offered for Callisto, and Father had accepted, was priceless. Black Julian had, indeed, wanted Callisto. _

"_I need a woman who will stand at my side, not cower in her Solarium," Black Julian had rumbled at her. He looked her up and down. "You're a clever girl, and I've heard that you can hold your own in a duel. That's the kind of woman I want in my life."_

_Callisto nodded. _

_Black Julian frowned at her. "The villa is yours to rule. You are my Matriarch."_

_The Villa Nigrae was… cluttered. That was the nicest word that Callisto could come up with for it. The House of Slytherin had a magical ledger that kept track of the household goods. Her mother had taught her all the spells for keeping the ledger, and how to make her own when she gained her own household. _

_Callisto sighed heavily. Recording everything that this family had collected was going to occupy her for some time. _

The vision faded and Hermione took several deep breaths to clear her head.

"Which Matriarch was it?" Andromeda asked curiously.

"Callisto of Slytherin," Hermione replied.

"Ah." Andromeda nodded. "She was a strong Matriarch. She's also where we get the custom of using the stars to name our children."

"Well, Julianus was more responsible for that then Callisto was," Narcissa pointed out.

"How so?" Hermione asked.

"It was a hard labour for Callisto's first born child," Narcissa explained. "She was in labour for three days. By the time the baby was born she had passed out from exhaustion. Julianus thought it would be amusing to follow mythology and he named her son Arcturus."

"I doubt we'll be using that name," Hermione retorted immediately. She flushed and looked at her lap. "I beg your pardon."

"No need to beg our pardon." Andromeda snorted. "I would wager you're correct about that."

"That would be a pointless wager," Narcissa added. She glanced at her sister. "It got even worse than it was before you left."

Andromeda grimaced. "I know Daddy hated him even before I finally left." The two Black sisters shared a solemn look.

"Let's focus on the inventory," Hermione announced in a bright, cheerful voice. She turned expectantly to Minny. "Where do we begin?"

"The attic, Minny is thinking. Nobody has been going up there in years," the House Elf decided with a firm nod that made her ears waggle.

The rest of the day went by in a flurry of activity. Hermione and the team of House Elves went over every inch of Black Manor cataloguing _everything_. Narcissa and Andromeda helped as much as they could. By the time Hermione went to bed she was so tired that she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.


End file.
